


Moon and Wolf

by serendipity211



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-03-26 02:56:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 26,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13848612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipity211/pseuds/serendipity211
Summary: PRELUDEDAENERYSIf I look back, I am lost...JONI am tired of fighting...MOON AND WOLFI am just looking for the home I have been denied...- o - o - o - o –This is a fanfic about Daenerys, Jon and the Great War against the Army of the Dead. It starts in the seventh season of Game of Thrones and continues to the ending I have imagined. It contains elements from the TV show and from the books.The original fanfic "Luna y Lobo" was written by myself in Spanish so this is a translation. English is not my first language.The characters and some situations belong to George R.R. Martin and HBO, of course.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Luna y Lobo](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/360942) by Serendipia211. 



Dragonstone’s skyline had already appeared against the horizon when Drogon started to descend.

– Not yet – I mumbled – a few more minutes…

Holding tightly to a pair of scales protruding from its back, I prepared to turn to the east. It was a recently acquired habit to fly around the island. Even if I was in the land where I was born, I could not get used to the tense sedentary lifestyle that has seized my days and nights. “We are at war”, I repeated to myself. That was the reason why I liked to feel the sea breeze and the warm sunlight on my face every now and then. Dragonstone was a damp and deserted place, but it was my only home after all.

While I rode Drogon, I could not help but asking what would be happening beyond the horizon: in the Great Grass Sea, in the Bay of Dragons, or in the house with the red door in Braavos. My ghosts from the past observed me from the outer reaches of the lands I have known: my sun and my stars, Rhaego, Viserys… They are nothing but dust and I am still here, feeling lonelier with every passing day.

I remembered the day when I told my brother that I just wanted to go home and he dismissed the wish of a child for his desire of a crown. “I do not want to be his queen. I want to go home”. I have never known a place where I really belonged. I have always feel like an outsider, wandering through the world looking for her place, and even if I thought I had found it in this island, something is still missing.

“We are at war”, the thought had resurfaced. Today it had been different. Today I had dealt face to face with that three-letter word. I had seen fright on the faces of my enemies, but also bravery. They also had something to defend, something to fight for. The young Tarly and his father were proof of it. Curiously, I admired them in secret; they faced their death with resolution. They believed in their own cause. Few times had I felt so exposed under the scrutiny of the soldiers that had bent the knee before me; more out of fear than loyalty, I knew that. Tyrion’s warning look and then, something similar to fear. I would have liked to say “I am not my father”.

– I am not – I reassured.

Drogon had almost reached the ground when I noticed Snow, his eyes following our landing. His thick northern cape fluttered in the wind and, even from my position, I could guess the grave look always carved on his face. I tried to land meters away from where he observed, but from the first time since I had ridden Drogon, he decided to ignore me.

– Drogon, what are you doing? – I whispered. I could not allow something bad to happen. – Do not get any closer…

However, my words were useless as Drogon continued approaching him. I wished the northern man were as dauntless as he appeared to be. From Drogon’s back I saw how Snow overcame the initial shock of finding himself centimetres apart from a snout that could turn him into ashes in just a second. “All right, Drogon. Behave”, I thought. The pointy scales that bulged on the top of its head prevented me from seeing what was happening below me. But its breathing was slow and rhythmic; there was no danger. Suddenly, my vision became clear and the scene I witnessed left me astonished. Jon had taken off one of his gloves and was stroking Drogon’s snout.

– You traitor… – I thought, trying to conceal a smile – since when do you accept to be spoiled by a stranger?

I dismounted just when Jon and Drogon parted and I walked towards him. As I approached him, I distinguished a spark of curiosity and amazement in his pupils. Admiration for my children, not fear like the one I always read on everyone else. I glanced to the sky where Drogon had joined his siblings. My eyes then met Jon’s and for the first time in a long time, I felt a little less alone.


	2. Chapter 2

I stared at the bed canopy with the enduring feeling of be flying on Drogon, despite I was laying on my back. The dim sunlight that found its way through the curtains, had disappeared hours ago and had been replaced by the pale shining of a full moon. It was a quiet night; however, my mind could not find rest after the last events. The sacrifices of war, the lives that were lost amid the smoke, the flames and ashes. “Sometimes strength is terrible”, I had said to Jon Snow. He seemed to understand it; just like me, he had had to bear down his enemies in the North.

Snow. Something about him made me feel a fleeting lightness. At the beginning, I attributed it to the surprise of finding myself before a man, not much older than myself. A young man of short, yet resolute, phrases and gentle eyes. The picture of the rough and hostile enemy I had painted in my mind, had vanished few days after I met him. He was strong headed, indeed, but I had the impression that we shared more than what it seemed. As days went by, that natural sympathy had settled and I found myself seeking his company. We did not talk much because we were never alone, but during those brief interactions, I had started to notice the somewhat curious glares of Ser Davos, Tyrion and even Missandei.

– Lord Snow is a fine young man, don’t you think Your Grace? – Missandei had said as we ate some plums, a couple of weeks ago.

– Hmm… I guess… – I answered distractedly. Not without noticing the smirk on her lips.

But in war, we have no time to think about such matters. There are more urgent affairs: Cersei Lannister and, if what Jon Snow claimed was true, the threat beyond the Wall.

The night had set in and become a little colder. I got up in silence, wrapped myself in a blanket and looked out the balcony. Below, in the dry inner garden, a shadow moved. Sharpening my gaze, I discovered Ser Jorah throwing sword thrusts in a dance against an invisible opponent. My brave bear had come back to serve his Queen once more. He always came back with his unaltered affection and loyalty. “Me okeo anni. He is my friend”. But nothing more. Here, half hiding in the shadows, I wonder how can he love me from afar, knowing I will never be able to love him back. How can he still be here, so impassive, after Drogo, shekh ma shieraki anni, after Daario, after everything? 

Ser Jorah, his well-known face was now the only witness of my endless pilgrimage, of my life as an outsider. And despite he had betrayed me, that sad chapter was behind us and a renewed trust existed. That was the reason why, when I saw him this afternoon, when he kneeled before me, I was overwhelmed by a quiet feeling of nostalgia. A familiar face in this strange land at last.

After several minutes watching the measured movements of the knight training under my window, my thoughts had managed to subside. One of my maidens had lit a fire and the warmth of the flames lured me to come back into the room. Taking a last look upon the night sky, I walked towards a pile of cushions forming a comfortable bed next to the fireplace. I curled among them and prepared to lose myself in my dreams.

Perhaps it was the excitement of the day, maybe the shadows that scampered restlessly around me, or the melancholy for the past that sometimes made me weep, but I swirled into a hypnotic lethargy. Just before sliding into unconsciousness, my vision turned crimson colour and I recalled a hollow voice:

“Three heads has the dragon…  
Three fires must you light… one for life and one for death and one to love…  
Three mounts must you ride… one to bed and one to dread and one to love…  
Three treasons will you know… once for blood and once for gold and once for love…”


	3. Chapter 3

I woke up at dawn with the characteristic heaviness of a restless night. The morning went by quietly; Tyrion had been avoiding me since the Battle of the Goldroad. I intuited he was with Varys, the spider, discussing what they surely considered my first steps on the way of becoming my father. I had told Tyrion and I repeated it to Snow:

– We only can help people from a position of strength. Sometimes strength is terrible.

I had not stopped repeating those words to myself, but even if I was convinced of that, my advisers did not seem to agree. I had discussed this with my Hand. We could not expect the Lords to accept me as her Queen, voluntarily. It was simply implausible to claim the throne that was my father's without spilling some blood, that of my enemies. I was not a Mad Queen. I was not Cersei Lannister. As long as I knew that, everything would be fine.

At midday, Missandei and I decided to take a stroll along the coast. It was nice to walk under the sun, despite the wind blew chillier each passing day. We talked about trifles: the weather, the new lifestyle so different to the one at Meereen, what was said of the northern men at a low voice in the kitchens. Missandei asked, not for the first time, the whereabouts of the Unsullied army, which still was on the lands of Casterly Rock. I felt sympathy for her slight blush when mentioning Grey Worm. As we walked to the furthest part of the shore, our conversation ceased and we limited ourselves to watch how the threesome of dragons plunged into the ocean to catch food.

A movement much closer to us caught my attention. It was Jon Snow giving orders to the men in charge of mining dragonglass. Beside him, Ser Davos talked to some others. Unexpectedly, I found myself recalling the face of the young King in the North under the flame of the torches during our incursion into the depths of the cave. I evoked the shadow of his wide eyebrows over his dark eyes, the shine of disguised wonder, the soft touch of his hand on my forearm as he directed my torch towards the primal paints and engravings of the army of the dead.

A few hurried steps behind us brought me back to reality. It was a couple of servants carrying several baskets.

– What’s that you carry? – I asked.

– Some food for the men, Your Majesty – one of them answered with a pronounced bow.

– For Lord Snow and Ser Davos – the other spoke at the time he lifted one of the baskets – and for the others – he continued, referring to the remaining hampers.

– That’s fine, you can give me the gentlemen’s basket. I’ll take it myself – I replied.

With a mixture of poorly hidden confusion and surprise they allowed me to carry it and, with Missandei by my side, I continued walking to meet them.

– I hope you’re hungry – I said, handing them the hamper.

– How kind of you, Your Grace – Ser Davos replied.

– May I ask for the course of the labours? – I asked Snow.

– Everything’s going as planned, Your Majesty.

An uncomfortable silence threatened to fall over us.

– You can leave, Missandei – I said – You must be starving and I would like to walk for a little longer.

Before Missandei could speak, Ser Davos offered to walk her back.

– Allow me, my lady. You’ll understand that for a man my age isn’t enjoyable to be standing all day long – he gave the basket to Snow, who received it with surprise – But you two should share this, it’s a nice day. 

The speed of his words and the abruptness of his action took me by surprise. Looking at Snow’s face, which surely was reflection of mine, I could clearly feel my cheeks flushing. Trying to pull myself together, and while the pair went away, I looked at Jon.

– Ser Davos… – he said as an apology – he can be rude sometimes. 

– Don’t you worry Lord Snow, shall we eat?

Nodding shyly, he followed me towards a set of rocks under the shadow of a cliff. We sat on a couple of them and prepared to eat the contents of the hamper. Our meal consisted of grapes and berries, fish and some kind of bird pastries, lemon cakes and a small jar of Dornish wine we served in two metallic cups. We ate as we had a cheerful talk about the mining work. Not long ago, one of the walls had collapsed without causing damages and a second chamber had been revealed. Now there was twice the amount of dragonglass ready to be collected.

Just when the conversation agonized, and the grains of sand had started to seem interesting, Jon Snow mentioned my children.

– I think I know what you meant when you said your dragons are beautiful – he said, as he watched their dance several hundreds of meters above our heads – I had been thinking about it and, in a way, I understand.

– And how is that? – I asked with a smile.

– I have a direwolf. We found him when he was just a pup. His mother had died and he was going to be sacrificed along his litter. “Direwolves aren’t pets”, those were my father’s words – something, homesickness perhaps, made him remain silent – And he was right, they are much more.

– A direwolf is not a dragon… – I still did not understand his point.

– No, definitely not – he replied with a weak laugh – But I do understand how is it to see fear in every single person that come across them. Sometimes it’s hard for me to comprehend how, for the others, Ghost is just a trained beast.

– Ghost. That’s a fine name. – I said as a compliment – I can almost picture him as a spirit among the trees in the forest, his attentive gaze and graceful walking. You surely miss him.

– Quite so, Your Grace… during his first years it caused me simple curiosity: his hunting ritual, his ferocity and loyalty. But now I think it’s… beautiful. – for the first time in this improvised reunion, he kept his eyes fixed on mine – His lurking is like a dance between hunter and prey, his ferocity is elegant and his loyalty much more reliable than that of humans.

– I apologize if I made you yearn for Ghost and your home.

– Don’t apologise. Truth is not many can understand. That’s why yesterday, after our talk, I realised you could. It seems to me that my link with Ghost is rather similar to yours with Drogon, Viserion and Rhaegal.

The men had finished their meal a while ago and a couple of them approached us to ask for directions. Snow looked at me as in a silent apology and we started to gather the leftovers as the mining resumed.

– I truly enjoyed our conversation, Lord Snow – I said, turning my back to pick up the cups that laid among the rocks.

– So did I, Your Grace.

Unexpectedly, his hand covered mine when we both reached for the basket and our eyes met. I could feel the blood rushing under my cheeks, that were surely blushing for the second time this day. Almost immediately we looked away and he withdrew his hand.

– Hmm… I can take that back to the castle – I said.

Recovering the composure after our fortuitous interaction, we headed towards the entrance of the cave. Missandei and Ser Davos had returned and were watching us with an inquisitive grin that undoubtedly implied what they had witnessed.


	4. Chapter 4

I had tried to keep myself busy to avoid thinking in what had happened hours before. However, I had failed massively. It took just a few seconds for my mind to wander and return to that brief moment in the beach.

– It means nothing – I constantly repeated my new mantra, trying to calm down my restless imagination – It is the loneliness who speaks. Not your heart, Dany.

Anyway, we had shared a nice talk. I had almost forgotten how that felt like. Lately, everything revolved around war and strategy. I had allowed myself to become immersed in the cold inertia of what was expected of me as Queen and that episode had felt like a breath of fresh air. At least for an instant, I had forgotten the hard future laying ahead and it had been liberating. 

In an impulse, I asked for parchment, pen and ink:

_Lord Snow,_  
_I invite you to join me for dinner tomorrow at my chambers.  
Daenerys_

I read my short note a couple of times and before I could regret it I asked Missandei to deliver it. It did not sound formal, like something a Queen would write. If Tyrion or even Varys read it, they would surely look at me with disapproval. As for me, I could justify myself; it was not an official meeting.

Missandei returned shortly before I retired to my room carrying a message.

_It will be my pleasure, Your Grace.  
Jon Snow_

With something to expect next day I gave myself to the promise of a soothing rest. For the first time in several days, the night passed by peacefully and with only one dream. A dream that the next morning would talk me about wolves sliding like shadows in a snowy forest and dragons flying over an immense wall of ice…

 

– o – o – o – o –

 

Snow arrived on time to our meeting. He was wearing his traditional northern outfit, except by his cape, which he only used when the wind reminded us that winter was coming. My maidens had set a table under a window from which we could see the cloudless sky and listen to the ocean crashing with the base of the cliff.

We shared bread and cheese, fish cooked on the fire with spices that I still could not recognize, small pasties stuffed with a mixture of vegetables and some other delicacies.

– This food is so different to the one in Essos that I still cannot get used to it – I said.

– The same happens to me. Even more if we compare it to the food I used to have in Castle Black: stews and broths morning, afternoon and evening; hot spicy wine and seeds.

– Castle Black sounds like an imposing place.

– I’m sorry to disappoint you, Your Grace, but it is not. Decades of neglect have turned it into just a handful of towers, of which half lie in ruins. Although the Wall... it is imposing indeed.

– The Wall – I said thoughtfully – As they describe it, with its 700 feet tall and 300 feet thick, it seems indestructible.

– I believe that the line that separates the impossible from the possible has faded some time ago, Your Highness – Snow replied, with the frown so typical of him - White Walkers, the Night’s King. The stories that Old Nan told when I was a child had turned out to be true.

– Old Nan? – I asked with interest.

– She was an old woman in the Winterfell of my childhood. She told us stories from the North. Legends about the children of the forest, the long night and the army of the dead, that had threatened the kingdoms of men long time ago – he laughed quietly as he took a berry pastry.

Her bedtime stories have turned out to be… reality? - I nibbled on a pastry before continuing - I didn’t have an Old Nan who told me stories. Although I remember one I was told several years ago, shortly after receiving the three dragon eggs, would you like to hear it?

– Only if you want to tell me.

– Well – I smiled – It is said that dragons came from the Moon. Many ages ago, there were two moons in our sky. One of them wandered too close to the Sun and the heat cracked it. Thousands and thousands of dragons spilled out of it and drank from the fire of the Sun. That is why their breath is flames. It is said that one day the other Moon will kiss the Sun too and dragons will return to our world.

I had gotten distracted, following Viserion's flight through the windows. When I finally turned to Snow, I discovered him staring at me. An almost forgotten effervescence appeared somewhere deep inside me and spread to my limbs until it reached the place where the warm brush of his skin against mine was now an invisible trace. Neither of us broke the silence.

– It means nothing – my consciousness repeated – You have felt alone for a long time.

The door smashed open and that ephemeral connection vanished without warning. Ser Davos and Tyrion walked towards us. Something in the hand of the Onion Knight caught my attention, a carefully folded parchment sealed under the shape of a direwolf.

– An urgent message has arrived from Winterfell – Ser Davos said as he handed Snow the letter.

Without wasting time, he read. Upon reading the first words, I saw surprise but with the following, a shadow erased all traces of the young man with whom I had been eating pastries just a few minutes ago.

– We must talk…


	5. Chapter 5

– I thought Arya was dead... I thought Bran was dead...

– I'm happy for you – I said. 

It was good news. However, he did not seem relieved.

– You do not look happy ... – I added, in an attempt to find out what troubled him.

He looked up and spoke:

– Bran saw the Night’s King and his legion marching towards Eastwatch. If they manage to cross the Wall...

– The Wall has stopped them for thousands of years – Varys interrupted; he still was sceptical.

– I need to go home – Snow replied with a note of conviction.

Hiding a shudder, I repeated what we both knew:

– You don’t have enough men.

– We’ll fight with the men we have – he looked into my eyes before continuing – Unless you’ll join us.

I felt more than a couple of eyes on me. His request was on the table, and although something urged me to say "I will", there was more at stake.

– And deliver the country to Cersei? As soon as I leave, she'll march in.

Tyrion, who had remained silent since the meeting had begun, spoke.

– Perhaps not – I looked at him doubtfully and he continued. He had a plan – Cersei thinks the army of the dead is nothing but a tale invented by wet nurses to scare children. What if we prove her wrong?

– I don’t think she’ll come to see the dead at my invitation – Snow laughed, the simple idea of Cersei going north was inconceivable not only to him but to me too.

– Then bring the dead to her – Tyrion proposed.

– I thought that was what we were trying to avoid – I intervened. I could not understand where this conversation was going.

– We don’t have to bring the entire army... – Tyrion continued.

– Just one soldier – the northern man completed.

It was then when I understood what they meant: to capture a wight and take it King's Landing for Cersei to see. It was a risky plan and my objections had no effect. My mind was a whirl of thoughts, some pessimists and others, the least, hopeful. It was Ser Jorah's voice that brought me back to reality.

– With the Queen’s permission, I will go north and capture a wight.

The room became silent as I abruptly turned to face him. It was an insane idea. Ser Jorah, my loyal bear, he could not leave and take on such a suicidal mission. But before I could oppose, he added:

– You asked me to find a cure to serve you. Let me serve you.

I inhaled deeply. I knew that few would fight as bravely as Ser Jorah; his loyalty and affection would make him fight like no other. He had always found a way to get back to me. Yet, wouldn’t I be sending him to a certain death?

– The Free Folk will help us – Snow said resolutely – They know the true North better than anyone.

– They will not follow Ser Jorah – Ser Davos did not seem convinced.

That was when Snow uttered a phrase that was enough to settle my growing insecurity:

– They will not need to...

As if someone had poured a bucket of icy water over my back, I shivered almost imperceptibly. I wanted to scream, "Have you lost your mind? All of you have lost it!". I looked for his eyes only to find that he had already found mine. His expression spoke to me shyly. I wanted to believe he was telling me not to fear, that he was able. But I could not believe him, I did not want to. Suddenly, the time we had shared just a few hours ago seemed distant and unreal. I was not willing to forget that nameless feeling that went over me when I was with him. I was sure that if he were to leave, that oppressive solitude would return. I looked at him, eyes crystallized, struggling to keep my composure.

– I haven’t given you permission to leave – I said hastily, fearing that the knob that had appeared in my throat would break.

– With all due respect, Your Grace, I do not need your permission. I am a King.

A torpor had seized my senses and I did nothing but look at him.

– And I came here knowing that your men could execute me or your dragons burn me alive. I placed my trust in you, a stranger, because I knew it was the best opportunity for my people. For all our people. – his emphasis when speaking in plural did not go unnoticed – Now I ask you to trust me, a stranger, because it's our best chance.

I was cornered. Neither as Daenerys, nor as Queen, I could resist to such an argument. I looked at Tyrion, hoping his quick mind would find the fault I could not identify. But the men in the room were just waiting for my answer. Knowing that this decision will, sooner or later, return to haunt me, I nodded.

 

– o – o – o – o –

 

Neither the preparations for his departure, nor the forced conversation of Missandei managed to calm me. She sensed that something bothered me, but I did not want to give her a reason to suspect that it was related to Snow. I already had enough with the furtive glances that Tyrion directed to me while I watched how the men loaded the ship. They would leave the next day.

It was almost midnight when Jon appeared with several Dothraki carrying boxes filled with dragonglass. He was holding a torch, and from my position in a balcony above the beach, I could watch without being discovered. There was something unique in the way they move. He owned the agility of a warrior and he knew how to give orders. But sometimes, when he thought no one was watching him, he allowed himself to let go his usual solemnity. How would it have been for him to grow as the bastard of a distinguished family to become King in the North? I did not know much about bastards, but I wanted to believe that our stories were not so different. After all, we both had grown up trying to find a place in a world that reminded us that we did not belong there.

Following his movements with the sound of the sea as background, turned out to be the perfect sedative. Fortunately, the knot in my throat was gone and a reassuring optimism had begun to spread inside my chest. Half sleep, I walked to my room. Under the shield of darkness that cloaked a smile, I recapitulated every second of the meal I had shared with Snow, with Jon. He seemed to like berry tarts, I should remember that.

I woke at dawn. There were still hours before the ship would sail north. I went over my limited wardrobe and chose a dark dress with some kind of crimson cloak. Since I had landed on Dragonstone I had started wearing the Targaryen colours: black and red. The cloak held to my shoulder with a beautiful brooch in the form of a three–headed dragon I had kept since I could remember.

As the morning went by, an atmosphere of tense anticipation began to spread through the castle. In the corridors, the servants whispered. On the coast, the guards watched the last boats carrying supplies to the ship. As for me, I watched the preparations from one of the viewpoints on the road that ran through the rocky landscape on the east side of the island.

Shortly before the sun reached its zenith, some guards came to where I stood and escorted me to the beach. Surprisingly, my mind remained mute. I wanted to believe that I felt acceptance and hope. In the distance, I saw Ser Jorah and Tyrion exchanging a few words. After all, they had shared their own adventure. I approached them, holding my hands together. I did not want any unexpected tremor to reveal the uneasiness I had felt the day before. Although it had disappeared, I knew it lurked from some corner inside me.

– At this point we should be better with farewells – I said.

– Your Grace – Ser Jorah said, his rough hands covered mine in a protective gesture.

His gaze drifted to the path through which I myself had come and I followed it only to discover that Jon Snow was approaching. Before leaving, Ser Jorah kissed my hands with devotion. I wished he had not noticed my frantic pulse with the arrival of northern man. Snow came to me and for a moment we did nothing more than exchange a look. I stared at him eagerly. I did not know what to expect, but I wanted to hear his voice once more.

– If I don’t return, at least won’t have to deal with a King in the North – he said almost jokingly.

I laughed and looked into his eyes, hoping he could read in mine everything I wanted to say.

– I've grown used to him...

Again, this fleeting connection. I wanted to believe that both of us were looking to delay this farewell.

– I wish you good fortune in the wars to come, Your Majesty.

We nodded and he hurried to leave.

When they had almost reached the ship with black sails, I left hastily. I closed my eyes and called Drogon. Upon reaching the top of the main cliff, he was already waiting for me and I climbed on his back. He began to ascent as he knew I wanted to escape and to feel the weightlessness of a daring flying. There, from the heights, I watched as the ship drifted away. 

The Wolf returned North and the Moon stared at him, solitary, from the blue sky.


	6. Chapter 6

Days had passed without news of the expedition. Only one raven had delivered a message: the ship had reached Eastwatch and the men were preparing to cross the Wall.

Since Snow had departed, the evenings became eternal with nothing more to do than sitting by the fire in the company of Tyrion and Missandei. In the mornings, I had adopted a new habit. I usually went down to the beach, where the mining works continued, and I distracted myself with the waves rocking against the shore or with the lively voices of the miners.

It looked like it had been forever since Snow had come to the island. I even found hard to remember life before Ser Davos and he arrived. And while it was true that the "King in the North" did not bend the knee nor recognize me as the legitimate Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, I had found something else during his stay. If I closed my eyes, I could relive the first meal we shared at the beach in which an unexpected touch had revived some part of Daenerys, Dany, I believed to be dead.

That morning I decided I would not sit by the sea. Instead I took a torch and, under the curious glances of the diggers, I went to the deepest cave where Snow had shown me the ancient engravings. There they were, as if no time had passed and the northern man stood beside me. I examined them in detail: spirals and unknown symbols. I wondered if they had some meaning that escaped our understanding and era. I kept walking until I located the white walkers, the children of the forest and the first men. I found it difficult to deny the existence of the Others when their faces watched me with empty eyes from that wall.

As I turned around to leave the cave, a detail in the furthest wall caught my attention. A faint reddish stain peeked under a crust of dragonglass. Taking a couple of tools that some men had abandoned while they ate lunch, I began to imitate the movements I had seen them perform. The dragonglass covering the newly discovered image started to come off gradually until a new figure became exposed. It was a man wielding a flaming sword. Unexpectedly, the image stirred a memory; but before I could capture it, it slipped into the limits of my consciousness.

I left the cave hastily because, for some reason, I wanted no one else to knew that part of the story. The miners almost never went into that cavern so I should not worry they discovered what I had found. A man and a flaming sword. Why it was so familiar to me? Suddenly, I found myself wishing that Jon Snow had not left. He was the only one I wanted to know about my finding.

 

\- o - o - o - o -

 

That afternoon, Missandei skipped our usual meeting beside the fire. We were just Tyrion and I so I decided to share something I had been thinking about since the afternoon when Jorah and Snow decided to leave.

– I don’t want you to be a hero – I said – Heroes do stupid things and then die.

Men only wanted to show courage, even if they put his life at risk. Drogo had died by an unnecessary wound, a wound to demonstrate his power and invincibility. Daario not only went to Vaes Dothrak, but also took a weapon with him against the prohibitions and killed a man. He was reckless. And now Ser Jorah and Snow had left to face death itself. 

– Drogo, Jorah, Daario and even this... – I paused to decide whether it would be wise to continue – Jon Snow. They all try to outdo each other and they do the stupidest and bravest things.

– It’s interesting – Tyrion added – that you mention Drogo, Jorah, Daario and even this... Jon Snow. They all fell in love with you.

I could not hide my bewilderment. Jon Snow in love with me? I could not believe it, but had to admit that part of me felt strangely satisfied.

– Jon Snow is not in love with me! – I exclaimed in disbelief.

– My mistake – Tyrion said with a tinge of fun – I guess he stares at you longingly because he expects a successful military alliance.

Jon Snow. Yes, something about him attracted me. But not in the same way Drogo or Daario had. He was too serious, too formal. He did not awaken the same feeling, the same passion as them. Thinking for a second I contradicted him:

– He’s too little for me.

Realising what my words implied, I tried to amend the damage.

\- Sorry, I did not mean... I know you're brave.

I sat down and I decided to change the subject. We spoke of less pleasant matters. I would face Cersei sooner than I had expected and that bothered me. If what I had heard about her was true, I could not expect her “game of thrones”, as Tyrion called them, to be honourable. He was right, if I was looking to really break the wheel of power in Westeros, I could not follow Cersei’s strategy. We could only be cautious, and be prepared for any offense the usurper’s widow might prepare.

I left my seat, restless. Tyrion insisted on making me see that I could be impulsive and that in front of Cersei, that was my biggest disadvantage. It was not the first time he reproached my temper. But years of waiting and plans that failed had not made me patient. I valued Tyrion’s opinion, although lately he could think otherwise, but I also wanted to win this war being myself. Lady Olenna had told me something during our last meeting: "Are you a sheep? No. You're a dragon. Then be a dragon."

The conversation had changed again. Tyrion’s words took me by surprise.

– How do we ensure your vision endures? After you break the wheel, how do we ensure it remains broken? – he asked.

I turned to look at him as I realised what he was trying to say.

– You want to know who will sit on the throne after my death? 

I did not need him to remind me I would never give birth to a child. The Targaryen lineage ended with me. Moreover, as I pointed out, I would first have to sit on the throne. It was useless to argue about this when we were still in Dragonstone, with a decimated army and without allies. Years of treason had made me doubtful, and though Tyrion had proved to be loyal, a twinge of doubt appeared from time to time. He was still a Lannister after all.

I ended our conversation and met Missandei in my chambers. We talked as I tried to forget my discussion with Tyrion. However, my mind insisted to remember _this_ Jon Snow as the voice of my Hand repeated: "They all fell in love with you... I guess he stares at you longingly because he expects a successful military alliance." The question was whether I was falling in love with him. I liked him, yes. But this did not feel like the previous times.

As a child, I liked to imagine that I would return to Westeros and be a princess. I would marry Viserys or he would find me a prince, a brave Westerosi who had been loyal to the Targaryen family during all those years. But soon I forgot those childish dreams. Viserys sold me to Drogo and what I thought was love emerged over time. Years later, Daario appeared with his flattering words and his intrepidness. But later I discovered I had not felt love. I had realised this when I decided to leave him behind in Meereen; our farewell did not pain me as I first expected.

With Jon, the world remained static and silent. Instead of the outburst I had felt with my former lovers, with Jon I felt calmness. It was like sailing after a storm, like the moment preceding a freefall. My dragon blood sang when his body got closer to mine. But how could I know if it was love when I was not sure I have ever felt it before? Facing this realisation, I feared I might never find out.

I went to sleep amidst a feeling of uneasiness that prevailed throughout the night. I managed to rest for a moment only to wake up a few minutes later with a bitter taste in the mouth and the frantic pounding of my heart after a nightmare. In dreams, I had seen snow, and in the blizzard, there was Jon. He was alone. He was lost. I called his name loudly, but he could not hear me. Then he called me, softly and pleadingly, and I opened my eyes to find myself alone in bed.

 

\- o - o - o - o -

 

During the next morning, Missandei and Tyrion watched me with concern. Apparently, my appearance gave away my state of mind and the restless night. I felt exhausted so I decided that for today I would not leave the castle. I could not erase from my mind the bad dream. It had felt so real that if I kept silence I could hear the echo of his voice calling me...

At noon Tyrion appeared with an expression that froze my blood. He carried a letter addressed to me. "Dark Wings, dark words", I had heard those words from the mouth of Varys. The crows were bearers of bad news. I unfolded the letter without hiding the tremor in my hands and read.

Jon needed help. If I did not go North they would never come back. I was the only one that could save them. He trusted me, a stranger, and I could not betray that vow. Wasting no time, I went to my room and pulled out a coat they had just made for me. It was a thick winter piece of clothing so when Tyrion saw me wrapped in it, his fears were confirmed.

– You must not go North. We cannot afford such a risk!

Tyrion followed me outside the castle. He was speaking, trying to convince me, but I had already decided. I stopped listening as I called Drogon, Viserion and Rhaegal who were snoozing on the esplanade.

– You can’t go. The most important person in the kingdom can’t go to the most dangerous place in the world – Tyrion said.

– Then what should I do? – I asked impatiently.

– Nothing – he replied – Sometimes that's the hardest thing to do.

I considered his words for a moment.

– If you die, we’re lost. Everyone and everything.

– Once you told me to do nothing and I listened. I will not do it again – I read defeat in his eyes before turning to ride Drogon.

Drogon rose, followed by his brothers. I tried to free my mind from the image of Jon lost in the snow and instead pictured him close, as if a bow tied me to his side and thus I would always find him. I remembered his eyes and evoked his warm and comforting touch. I did not know if this was love, but it was worth the risk to find out.


	7. Chapter 7

I flew away from Dragonstone without looking back. I flew over forests and valleys, over rivers and mountains. It was the first time I saw Westeros with my own eyes and not through the stories I had heard throughout my life.

The sky was clear, though we passed some clouds occasionally. From the heights, I could easily make out villages scattered over the landscape and even one castle or another. How different my life would have been if the rebellion had never happened? Surely I would have know those lands like the back of my hand. It would have accompanied my parents during royal visits. I would have grown up navigating these rivers and riding through the valleys.

Hours later the night arrived from the east and the first stars appeared. Shortly before the light disappeared completely, I started an impromptu descent. I could feel that my dragons needed water and I had had a glimpse of the reflection of a lake. I flew over the area to make sure no danger awaited on the banks and finally landed on a clearing between the dark waters and a somewhat shrivelled forest. I dismounted from Drogon and went to drink some water. As he and his brothers quenched their thirst, much higher than mine, I walked into the woods. The night was cold and a slight breeze blew from the north. The foliage of the trees was almost dry and had formed a carpet of fallen leaves, which crunched under my feet.

I turned to see my children and I wondered if the landscape was as foreign to them as it was to me. I had never walked through a forest and, although it was unknown, I found it comforting. As if the trunks and branches were the shelter I had sought for so long. Then I saw a bush on my right, it seemed to have a little more life than the vegetation around it. Under the moonlight, I discovered that it was a bush of wild berries. "Berry tarts" I thought with a weak smile. I took a handkerchief out from one of the folds of my coat and wrapped a handful of them.

The trio of dragons seemed to have recovered and we continued the journey. I felt the North was close, and not just for the white layer staining the landscape. The tie that bound me to Jon Snow seemed to stiffen as the evening advanced. I was in a state of constant vigilance. Despite having more than one day without sleep, I was not willing for something to take me off guard.

With the first rays of sun, a reflection dazzled me. When my eyes got used to the brightness, what I saw on the horizon left me bewildered. A solid wall of ice stood a few miles away, so colossal that imagination was unable to do justice. "I'm almost there. Fight" I thought, encouraging my children to go faster. As we approached, thin snowflakes began to fall and flit around us. Drogon, Viserion and Rhaegal sensed that we would face the unknown; like myself, they remained attentive.

Near the mountain that looks like the tip of an arrow. The icy desert below my feet was completely strange to me. However, a newfound intuition guided me. Perhaps it was the fear of seeing my nightmare come true or the inertia caused by the lack of sleep.

The sky began to close upon us. It was impossible to tell where the mountains began and the sky ended because both were pure white. We flew among some steep peaks and over frozen moors, until an imposing mountain became visible. Nearby, the Night King’s horde clamoured death.

Hundreds and hundreds of wights surrounded the group of men who fought against all odds. I flew around, before the attack.

– Dracarys... – I said, and three flares fell upon the multitude that threatened the Westerosi defending themselves on a rock in the middle of a frozen lake. I had to get closer, but they were still surrounded and if I tried to slay their attackers I risked the fire would reach them as well.

I hovered lower, trying to find a place where Drogon could land and then I saw him. Amid the clamour of battle, Jon Snow followed me with his eyes. "I'm here" I said, wishing he could hear me, "I'll get you out of here." A group of wights ran straight to Jon, but Drogon knew what to do. Before they could reach him, the fire consumed them.

I managed to land on the rock while Rhaegal and Viserion circled the battlefield setting fire to the dead who continued advancing towards us. Drogon spat flares to anything that approached. He seemed to innately recognize the enemy. Soon, the group of warriors found shelter under the wings of the dragon.

Pushing aside a fierce-looking red-haired man, Jon approached me. His eyes spoke to me in a harmony of gratitude, longing and something I had not seen before. Leaning toward him, I reached out my hand to help him up. He stretched his and just as my fears began to dissipate his expression twisted, he turned on his heels and charged at the dead who still were behind us.

– JON! – I wanted to scream. But my voice had frozen before reaching my lips. While the others seated on Drogon, I could not help but to stare at the stupid northern man who walked away further and further. "Men do the the stupidest and bravest things", I remembered. Behind me, Ser Jorah called him out, but boldness usually turned men deaf and Snow seemed not to hear.

I tried to appeal to the connection that had formed days ago. I tried to pull the invisible string between us, as I could almost assure he could also feel it; but it was in vain. A reflection in the air brought me back to reality just in time to witness how a spear of ice struck one of my children.

The world went off around me. The gelid glass that had formed inside me when Jon decided to let go of my hand broke into pieces, and splinters stuck into my chest. I wanted to scream for the life of my son, the second one I lost. I wanted to flee and abandon myself to emptiness, to stare into the void forever. I wanted to cry and let Jon take me in his arms. But there was only loneliness and tears that froze before they found their way on my cheeks.

Helplessly, I saw Viserion’s mutilated body disappear into the melted ice. Time seemed to be hung on that feeling of loss. Within the upheaval, I could see how Jon kept fighting. But the wights regrouped quickly. Then his voice dragged me out of the mist that clouded my senses.

– GO! LEAVE NOW! – he exclaimed, as he continued facing dead.

The Night King watched the scene impassively, while one of the white walkers handed him a second spear. A twinge in my chest came when I realized the choice I faced. Jon was still far when he fell into the lake, pushed by a couple of wights who had taken him by surprise. I wanted to be capable of lengthening the strands of time and wait. I genuinely thought that at any moment his face would break the surface. But it did not happen, the evil leader was preparing to attack and I had no choice but to take off and trust in Drogon agility.

As we flew away, I looked back. Part of my soul got lost in that barren wasteland of death. That piece of myself now lay in the depths with Viserion and Jon Snow. "Heroes do stupid things and then die."

Jon... how could I live longing for an idea? I refused to accept that I would spend the rest of my days looking for his words come out from other lips, his touch in other hands and his honest and gentle look on other faces.

Viserion... your mother had failed to protect you. Is a mother still being one after losing her children? A chill ran through my body. After all, my children were not invincible and that frightened me. I could not let anything happen to Rhaegal and Drogon; I must not allow it.

We arrived to Eastwatch. They all insisted I needed to rest. Ser Jorah even tried to force me to do so. How could I sleep after what had happened? I had failed twice today: to Viserion and Jon Snow. I asked to climb to the top of the wall and then to be left alone. The twinge in my chest had turned into a painful knob in my throat and a stream of tears that I refused to shed.

Hours passed by without me noticing. My dragons mourned his fallen brother with a melancholic cacophony. I watched, enraptured, the edge of the forest. Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me. It was Ser Jorah, who looked at me with compassion.

– We must leave, Your Grace.

– A few more minutes… – I said.

I did not want to cherish hope, but it was the only feeling that peered shyly. While my bond with the northerner had weakened, I did not seem to be broken yet. Nothing happened so, gathering what little strength I had left, I walked away from the edge.

Suddenly, the blast of a horn...

"One blast for rangers, two for wildlings, three for White Walkers", I had heard it sometime. I waited, fearing that the sound would repeat, but the echo simply disappeared. I went back to the edge and made out a lone figure approaching to the Wall. Jon.

Those warm tears I had restrained finally rolled down my cheeks. 

I cried for life,  
I cried for death,  
I cried for newfound love.


	8. Chapter 8

I stayed for a moment at the top of the Wall, trying to dry my tears. I did not want the men saw me like this. Viserys used to tell me that "crying was a sign of weakness" and even though I knew his words had usually been mistaken, I avoided showing vulnerability. Fortunately, Ser Jorah had remained silent and when the last vestiges of my tears disappeared, I discovered he had left.

I went down and saw how several men carried Jon’s inert body. For a second I thought it was his lifeless body, but soon Ser Davos began to give orders to prepare one of the cabins. They needed furs and hot water.

I followed them closely; I did not plan to leave Jon until I knew he was safe. He was taken to a cabin next to the stairs leading to the deck of the ship. While they lay him on his bed, I watched from under the threshold. His thick winter clothing had frozen around his body and Ser Davos struggled trying to free his body. When he finally did, he left the room and I caught the first glimpse of Jon’s body.

I did not dare to enter, so I limited myself to look at him from afar. Thick scars crossed his chest. I was confused; cuts like those should have killed him. In particular, a curved one over his heart… "he took a knife in the heart for his people", those were the words of Ser Davos. After all, it had not been just a manner of speaking.

– Your Grace – Ser Jorah had come to my side – the boat is ready to sail. I’ll take you to your cabin.

I followed him a few meters to the end of the same corridor. He opened the door and after I had entered, he left with a slight inclination. It was a spacious cabin, similar to where Jon lay unconscious. I caught the soft smell of wood, a dash of the forest where I had been hours, days, or somewhat ago. Then I remembered the little bundle I kept in one of my pockets. I unwrapped the bundle and saw the berries I had collected. They had crushed a bit, but they were still good.

I went down to the kitchen and asked the cook to bake, if possible, some tarts with the berries I gave him. After he ensured me that in a couple of days they would be ready I returned to my room.

When passing by the room where the northerner rested, I found that his door was only half closed. Without being able to avoid it, I stopped and peeked through the slit. Ser Davos had returned and was washing Jon’s body with a cloth and a tray of steaming water. A creak in the floorboards betrayed my presence.

– Excuse me – I said, embarrassed – I didn't mean to intrude.

– It’s fine, Your Grace – he answered kindly – You can stay, if you wish.

Weighing up the idea, I went in shyly.

– Don’t you worry. Jon Snow will recover in the blink of an eye.

I stood at the foot of the bed and stared at the man lying in front of me. It seemed to me as I was looking at him for the first time. His brow was relaxed, something uncommon when he was awake. His black hair framed a face with attractive features, with no doubt. His tarnished chest rose and fell rhythmically, tightening his well-defined muscles.

– Is this what you meant when you said he had taken a knife in the heart for his people? – I asked.

I noted discomfort in his face.

– It seems to me that this is a story he should tell himself – he said, avoiding looking at me.

Before the silence became uncomfortable, I decided to leave.

– Jon Snow has a good heart, Your Highness – he said when I had reached the door – Just like you. He never would have wanted _this_ to happen.

– I know – I replied before disappearing into the shadows of the hallway toward my room.

Once in my cabin, I sat near the window and saw my children behind us. They flew low, and although I was away, I could feel their sadness. The feeling of loss had decreased since the return of Jon Snow. However, being alone among these four walls and away from everything that was familiar to me, the melancholy transformed into tears once again. I lay on my side, wishing I could stay this way forever. The tears came out, not as a stream, but one by one, slowly. It was as if all the sadness I had supressed throughout my life had finally found a crack in my chest and escaped. Could one never stop crying?

Shortly after, there was a knock at my door. With my back to the entrance, I answered weakly.

– Come in.

– Your Majesty… – it was Ser Jorah – I brought you something to eat and some tea with a few drops of milk of the poppy for a night without dreams.

I thanked him without turning while he placed the tray on the table in one of the corners. As soon as he left, I stood up clumsily and chew some potatoes and meat. I was not hungry, but I knew I had to eat. I took a sip of the drink and returned to my bed with the promise of a quiet night.

 

\- o - o - o - o -

 

I woke up in a daze. In that confusion, I thought it all had been just a bad dream and that when I opened my eyes I would find myself in my chambers at Dragonstone. Soon, the swaying of the ship on the waves, reminded me the nightmare was real. Making an effort, I sat up. Someone, probably Ser Jorah, had brought a tray with some nuts, a couple of sausages and tea.

I ate slowly as I looked out of the window. It should be almost noon. When I finished, I decided to go out to the deck. I was afraid that if I stayed too long shut up in this cabin, the tears would reappear. I passed by the closed door of Jon’s room and I climbed the stairs. The salty breeze ran among the masts and sails so I closed my eyes and let the wind wash my sorrow away. When I opened them again, I found Jorah and Davos staring at me with concern. I spoke briefly with them and agreed for them to carry trays of warm water to take a bath.

Back in my room, I let the water wipe away my pain. It was relaxing to follow the drops that rolled on my skin and to listen to the waves splashing against the hull. When the water had cooled down completely, I got out of the tub. I had no maids to help me to dress up or fix my hair. However, I liked the freedom of not being constantly surrounded by servants.

When I was ready, I went out again to ask for the tub to be emptied and for some food. I walked down the stairs carrying bread, cheese, salted meat and a jug of spiced wine. I stopped for a moment outside Jon Snow’s cabin, I opened the door, looked around to make sure I was alone and finally decided to sneak inside quickly.

Jon slept peacefully. Trying not to make noise, I left the provisions on a table, arranged one of the chairs so that I could face the bed and took a seat. I felt like sort of an intruder, but I also felt it was where I was supposed to be. I begged that neither Ser Davos, nor anyone would enter and find me.

I ate and drank with a serenity that seemed almost impossible given the latest events. But I stopped questioning it and decided that, for now at least, I would embrace the idea that things would improve. Once I finished eating, I got up and I looked out the window. Rhaegal and Drogon were not in sight, but my instinct told me not to worry. Sooner or later they would return; like me they should heal. At my back, Jon stirred and a deep sigh escaped from his lips. As I saw him there, so defenceless and vulnerable, I felt a pull in my stomach. The connection I had perceived tossed slightly and produced me a tingling sensation. I approached him quietly and sat down beside him.

He was so close, that if I stretched my hand I could revive the spark of my skin against his. I imagined myself outlining his face and caressing his scars with the tip of my fingers. As if our proximity could heal hid physical wounds and mine, intangible, but as deep as his. Immersed as I was in my thoughts, it took me a while to notice he had woken up.

He looked at me with sadness.

– I'm sorry – he mumbled harshly – I’m so sorry.

I shook my head as I tried to hold back the tears that threaten to reappear. Jon took my hand. My dragon's blood ran fiercely under his longed touch.

– I wish I could take it back. I wish we’d never gone.

– I don't – I removed my hand from his. The electric stream running through where our bodies found each other clouded my mind – If we hadn't gone, I wouldn't have seen. You have to see it to know. Now I know.

– The dragons are my children – I continued – they’re the only children I’ll ever have, do you understand? – I sobbed – We are going to destroy Night King and his army… and we'll do it together. You have my word.

Jon swallowed before replying.

– Thank you, Dany.

– Dany? – I smiled with tenderness, in a way I hadn’t smile since a long time ago – Who was the last person who called me that? I’m not sure. Was it my brother? Hmmm, not the company you want to keep.

– All right. Not Dany. – His face turned serious before continuing – How about My Queen? I’d bend the knee, but…

I looked at him in astonishment.

– What about those who swore allegiance to you? – I asked perplexed.

– They’ll come to see you for what you are – He replied with the gentleness that characterized him.

I found his hand and hold it softly, almost afraid of the feeling arising from somewhere between my chest and my throat.

– I hope I deserve it – those were the only words I could find.

– You do.

I tried to remove my hand from his, but he clung to the grasp. Surprised as I was, I looked to our hands and then into his eyes. It was as if, in a silent agreement, we said everything that words could not state. In that infinite second I discovered that, on extraordinary circumstances like this one, a home can be found amidst silence in a pair of eyes, a tender caress and next to the person you love.


	9. Chapter 9

A rush of joy ran through my veins when I left the cabin. A small light in the darkness of the past hours, at last. The future no longer seemed so threatening to me, now that I was certain that I would face it next to Jon, and not only in a military alliance but in something more intimate.

I returned to my room feeling a little livelier and spent the afternoon clinging to the memory of my meeting with Snow. The memory of our hands holding was now the anchor for not getting lost in the feeling of suffocating anguish that until a few hours ago oppressed me. I found it hard to believe that _this_ was really happening. I had come to Westeros to claim a throne, and I had never imagined I would find something I desired even more.

From that afternoon, I began to visit him regularly. We shared our meals; he half laying on the bed and me sitting on a chair next to him. We talked about anything, but especially about my children and Ghost, Jon’s direwolf. Sometimes he mentioned his brothers and told me about the lifestyle in the North and Black Castle. I told him about life in the khalasar and Bay of Dragons. Some afternoons he liked to learn words in Dothraki or High Valyrian, because he only knew the common tongue.

– How do you say "thank you" in Dothraki? - he asked one of those occasions.

– There is no word for that – I said, remembering how I had asked the same question to Ser Jorah years ago.

My loyal bear had noticed my growing attachment to Snow. And although no one, besides Jon and me, knew what happened during our endless hours together, the crew seemed to perceive what was starting to blossom among those four walls. I wanted to say something to Ser Jorah, but what? Neither the northern man nor I had even named what was arising between us.

 

\- o - o - o - o -

 

The tarts had taken longer than expected, as it had been impossible to get flour until we reached a small fishing village south of the Vale of Arryn. That afternoon, I went to Snow’s cabin as usual carrying a plate of fresh baked tarts and a bottle of spicy hot wine. He had recovered almost completely, but our proximity to King's Landing forced him to stay in bed and recover as soon as possible.

After offering him a tart that he gladly accepted, I put the dish near his feet and sat down in my usual place. I told him about the origin of the berries looking at the tip of my shoes. When I looked up, he was staring at me kindly and with a hint of a smile. His next words left me stunned.

– Come with me – he said, as he moved to leave a space on his right.

Feeling an unusual warmth, I left my wooden seat, went to bed and sat with my back leaning onto the wall. It was the first time we were so close. Looking for something to do, I took the plate with tarts and put it on my legs.

– You can have another one if you want, do you like them?

– Berry tarts are my favourite – he said while taking one – As a child, the baker in Winterfell secretly gave them to me. Do you remember we ate some in Dragonstone?

– Yes, I remember.

– Since I left to the Wall I had not eaten them. They brought good memories – he said with his eyes fixed on the dessert – From when everything was simpler.

– Can I ask you something? – I looked awaiting a response. When he nodded, I continued – Why did you decide to leave Winterfell and join the Night´s Watch?

– Hmm ... – he was thinking.

– You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to do – I said, embarrassed by my sudden boldness.

– It's fine. I want to… I guess I wanted to find my place in the world. My father and my sisters were going to King's Landing, Robb was left in charge of Winterfell, and Lady Stark... well, she never fully accepted me. Yes, my father was Lord Eddard Stark, but I’d always be a bastard. At the Wall, I’d have who to call brothers regardless my condition. I thought there I wouldn’t be a bastard. I travelled with Lord Tyrion to the Wall, did you know?

– I knew you two had met. He told me so before you came to Dragonstone. He trust in you and in your judgment.

– He who told me a wise phrase that I still remember: "Never forget that you’re a bastard. The world will never forget". He was right. – doubting, asked – Do you mind?

– You being a bastard? – after a pause I continued – No. A person’s origin doesn’t determine his or her worth, Jon.

He smiled and stroked my hand laying between us.

– Now it's my turn to ask – I said as I settled my shoulder against his – How was travelling across the world to get here? I had never left the North until I went to Dragonstone. Instead you have been to so many places...

– Yes, I have travelled across the world, but not by choice – I replied with a sad smile – I'll tell you something I haven’t told anyone. I grew up in Braavos, in a house with a red door and a lemon tree I could see from the window of my room. I was happy there, and in my childish innocence I thought I’d always will be... that I’d never left until it was time to go home, as Viserys said. But one day Ser Willem, the owner of that house, died and his servants stole everything. Soon we were on the street and the red door, which for me symbolised safety, closed forever. Since then, just like you, I’ve searched for the place I belong. Yes, I’ve travelled the Great Grass Sea with the Dothraki, then to Astapor and to the Slaver’s Bay, but I never felt like in that house in Braavos: at home.

Without having realized, I had lean my head on his shoulder and we were holding hands. I felt calm and he also seemed relaxed.

– It must have been difficult. But you’re now in Westeros and we will make sure you find the home that you have been looking for.

I smiled as a silent thank you and fasten our contact. 

We continue our little game of questions and answers, some more relevant than others. Then I thought of something that until then had not crossed my mind.

– Have you ever loved? – I said, lifting my head from his shoulder and facing him to study her reaction.

A shadow darkened his eyes and I knew I had stirred a painful memory.

– It was long ago and few know about it. Ygritte. She had red hair, _"kissed by the fire"_ they said. She was a wildling, a woman from the Free Folk – he paused – She died during an attack to Castle Black. An arrow to the heart. It was… complicated.

– Do you still think about her? 

– I remember her, yes. But it is no more than that, a memory.

– I understand. We never forget those who we loved and are no longer with us. Viserys sold me to Khal Drogo, you know. I was terrified to know I was his wife, his khaleesi, and it was tough. After some time, everything was less terrible. I discovered that, although he was ruthless with his enemies, he could be protective and affectionate to me. It was complicated, as well.

We kept silence for some minutes until I dared to ask:

– Jon – I said looking up – Will you tell me the origin of the scars?

An uncomfortable grimace appeared on his face and I knew I had made a mistake.

– Not yet… but I will, I promise.

We stayed that way until the shadows began to slide through the window, eating tarts and drinking wine. Limiting ourselves to live in the moment without thinking that in a couple of days we would reach our destination. I secretly wished we could stay in this same boat, drift away, and that those moments of happiness could survive the passing hours.

I decided to leave when the first star appeared on the sky. I was about to get up when Jon suddenly placed his arm around my shoulders and pulled me toward him. Our faces were so close that the warmth of his breath fogged my lips. Then he said:

– I've fallen for you, Dany.

He stroked my hair tenderly. I could not help but look at those dark eyes that had mesmerized me since I saw them under the fire in the cave now so remote. Every word sinking into my throat. He then kissed one of my cheeks, a little beyond the corner of my mouth, and let me go.

After closing the door behind me, I had to stop to catch my breath. My heart was beating wildly, I felt ecstatic. The outcome of the evening had taken me completely off guard.

Just as unexpected was the voice of Ser Jorah behind me.  
– Your Highness, the captain would like us to meet to discuss our arrival at King's Landing.

I hid my joy reluctantly and accompanied him to the captain, who I had rarely seen. Ser Davos was also there. The conversation was irrelevant to me as my presence was a mere formality; it were the men who knew those lands and the best ports. Ser Jorah had been the one communicating with Tyrion to coordinate their arrival and that of our army.

In the end, it was agreed that we would stop briefly at Dragonstone for Tyrion, Theon and Missandei to join us and we could continue our journey to finally disembark at the north of the capital. The unsullied army had almost reached the outskirts of the city, as well as the Dothraki horde. We would be reaching our destination within two days.

After the meeting I left hastily, eager to get to my cabin and recapitulate what had happened with Jon. Before sleeping, I took a relaxing bath. I dined a couple of small potato and venison pasties and I lay looking out the window. The waning moon slightly lightened the night sky, but its light was enough to allow me to watch the aerial dance of my two children as a veil of drowsiness fell upon my senses.

 

\- o - o - o - o -

 

The next day, I was surprised to find Jon on the deck. We looked at each other discreetly, because our unspoken agreement prevented us from showing too much. During the day, we did not go back to our cabins, we just walk from bow to stern and back. We were almost never alone; Ser Davos and Ser Jorah took turns to keep us company. Even if they had not been there, the comings and goings of the crew made the deck a busy place. There was a time, however, when it was only us and the pair of dragons flying over the ocean. I linked my arm with his and he placed a gentle kiss on my temple. He knew my heart was still mourning the loss of Viserion.

The expectation before the last night on board had fixed an atmosphere of tense anticipation. We ate dinner with the captain, Ser Jorah and Ser Davos in the cabin where we had met the night before. The modest feast consisted of seeds, venison stew, fish with vegetables and lemon cakes, all washed down with red wine. Having finished, we chatted about what awaited us at King's Landing. None had met before Cersei Lannister and neither Jon nor I had set foot in the capital of the Seven Kingdoms. Not to mention that the reason for our visit was to request the support of the current Crown. We wondered what Cersei's reaction would be?

Late at night, I decided to go and get some rest. Jon seconded my farewell and both left. As we arrived to Jon’s cabin, I stopped him before he opened the door. I had been weighing my options during the day and had reached a conclusion. While I knew it would not be approved, it was what I desired. What my heart craved.

– Jon – I said, dragging him below the stairs to be unseen. 

His gaze was only a ghostly glow in the darkness.

– I’ve fallen in love with you too – I said it.

My words swirled and fluttered between us for a moment. Then, they rushed into nothingness as his lips met mine. At the beginning, it was a fleeting contact, like the breeze that caresses the grass and makes the dew slide during summer. Gradually, it became firmer and more demanding; I swore that sparks burst there where our bodies met. My hands were trapped against his chest and his, travelled from my hair down to my waist. I gave myself up to this kaleidoscope of emotions that seemed endless.

However, a noise over our heads urged us move apart suddenly. Someone was coming down the stairs. We kept silent and waited.

It was Ser Jorah who surely headed to his cabin in the floor below our own. Fortunately, the stairs going down were at the opposite end of the corridor, in front of my own room, and we would not be discovered. He was about to go down when something held him back and, backing up a few steps, he stopped at my room. He reached out to knock on the door and I looked at Jon, who returned me the same look of alarm. We definitely could not admit what was happening between us yet, let alone to Ser Jorah Mormont. After considering it once more, Ser Jorah walked away. As we heard the door of his cabin we exhaled in relieve.

The moment had broken, so we just smiled as we walked out of our hiding place. Jon wished me goodnight and went into his cabin. I, on the other hand, slowly walked to mine, trying to record every second, every minute and every detail with accuracy. It felt like every moment I had lived had led up to this particular moment. In which I could fly without riding a dragon and my blood of fire crackled under the touch of the White Wolf of Winterfell.


	10. Chapter 10

It was strange to be on the outskirts of King's Landing. All those years imagining the moment I set foot in the capital of Westeros had not prepared me for when it really happened. Although there was also the fact that the circumstances that had led me here and now, were far from what I could have foreseen.

At Tyrion's suggestion, we had agreed that I would not arrive with my retinue. Cersei Lannister was difficult to intimidate, and if she had something planned, it was better that the element of surprise play in our favor. I was waiting on a desolate beach. A few boats eaten away by time and abandonment, swayed to the rhythm of the waves. In the distance, the city wall and the Red Keep stood imposing.

How small I felt before that skyline. The last Targaryen was returning to the place where she was supposed to have grown up. I remembered the plans of the city that Viserys had obsessively shown me. The wall with its six gates and the three hills crowned by the three jewels of the Kingdom. In the south, Visenya’s Hill, where the Great Sept of Baelor once stood; in the East, Aegon’s High Hill and the Red Keep; and finally in the North, the Hill of Rhaenys and Dragonpit. Knowing it was time to leave, I called Drogon and we took off followed by Rhaegal. From the air, the city did not seem so imposing so, taking a deep breath, we headed towards the meeting place.

Being honest, Dragonpit was no more than a grim set of ruins. Just a sad vestige of what had once been a colossal building. While dismounting, the muscles in my face and back began to tense. Even from my position the tense atmosphere was almost palpable: serious faces and all eyes fixed on me. I took my seat and turned to Cersei Lannister. I could not help but notice the contemptuous gesture with which she looked back at me.

– We've been waiting for you – she said, dryly.

– I apologize – I answered.

Tyrion got up from his seat and began the conversation. However, he had barely said a couple of words when a vulgar-looking man interrupted him. It was Euron Greyjoy, who was trying to provoke his nephew, Theon, and Tyrion himself. It seemed that the man did not completely pleased Cersei, for she demanded that he keep silent.

The really important discussion started. Soon after, Jon joined the negotiation. He better than anyone else knew what we were facing. As for me, I assured the widow Queen that the capital would be free of attack, at least until the North was safe; I offered her a truce in exchange for her help. But Cersei seemed determined to expect the worst from us; obviously she did not trust our words. She had to see to believe.

The Hound brought what they had captured beyond the Wall. While on the ship back from the fateful expedition, I knew that the wight was tied up in one of the cellars. Men used to check on it several times a day. However, I had not seen it since. Viserion's death still felt close and the wight was a hard reminder.

After the demonstration, I could read fear in Cersei's eyes. Although also a glow of something else that I could not identify. Euron had left with his naval troop, he would return to the Iron Islands. Jaime Lannister appeared to be more sensible than his sister and seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation. Finally, Cersei spoke.

– Well, I accept the truce – she said. But it could not be that simple – On one condition... the King in the North must commit to not take sides when this war, the Great War as you call it, ends.

I was alarmed, because we had not contemplated this possibility. Jon had sworn allegiance to me, but under these circumstances it might be prudent to hide it. The Northerner looked at me and I knew what would happen. "Heroes do stupid things," I thought.

– I'm sorry, but I can’t promise that – he approached to me and then he did what he could not do a few days ago: he knelt before me – the North does not recognize other Queen than Daenerys from the House Targaryen.

Cersei Lannister could not hide a sneer before getting up and saying:

– Then there's nothing to discuss.

While her retinue left and our men tried to understand what happened, I approached Jon.

– I appreciate your loyalty, but you know that without her support, our disadvantage grows. Without her support, Viserion will have died for nothing. You should have lied.

– Yes, I could have lied – he said, with an expression divided between repentance and rectitude – But lies would not help. Sooner or later they would come to light and cause even more conflict.

Tyrion, who was now standing beside us and seemed frustrated, spoke.

– Be that as it may, the truth is that for now we are screwed.

Despite my initial refusal, Tyrion was determined to speak with his sister again; this time in private. We all knew that he risked being killed by just trying. However, it was the only option. I had to trust in his intelligence and diplomacy. Once he retired, we only had to wait.

Jon seemed genuinely distressed because he blamed himself for the failure in the negotiation. I saw that he was picking up something from the ground near one of the most decadent walls and I decided to keep him company.

– No one is more unhappy than me about this matter, I assure you – he said, observing the small jaw he had recovered from the debris.

– I know – I said – But I respect what you did.

I wanted to hold his hand or to wrap him in a hug, but I knew that at that moment it was impossible.

– How are you feeling? – he asked – I know what it must mean for you to be in this place.

– Truth is I can’t describe how I feel. Thinking about the Targaryen generations that walked on this very ground makes me uneasy. They built this place to enclose the dragons, without realizing that it would consume them. It consumed us too, what is a Targaryen without a dragon? Without them we are like everybody else. And now we’re almost gone.

– You are not like everybody else – he said, trying to cheer me up – and your family has not seen its end. You are still here.

He smiled at me and took me briefly by the hand. His back, widened by the thick cloak he wore, was enough to hide what was happening between us.

– But I told you I can’t have children.

– How do you know?

– The witch who murdered my husband told me.

– Witches are usually wrong.

Before I could answer, we heard several steps approaching. It was Cersei Lannister. Surprisingly, Tyrion seemed to have convinced her to join us in the Great War.

 

\- o - o - o - o -

 

For the defence of the North we had agreed to travel to Winterfell. Jon had written to his sister Sansa to let her know. As for me, a feeling of nervousness had clung to my stomach. It was well known that the Targaryen were not appreciated in that area. The whole business of Lyanna Stark, her brother Eddard, Robert Baratheon, my father and my brother, still lived fresh in the memory of the northerners. I could only trust in the protection that Jon could give me and in my own merits.

During the last days, the phrase "I am neither my father nor my brother" helped me as a spell to remain calmed. I needed to believe that being an ally in the war against the dead would clearly demonstrate my true character. Jon believed in me and I hoped that this would be a good start for my relationship with the Northern Lords.

The day we were leaving for Winterfell I woke up early. We were expecting a journey of several days by boat to White Harbor and then some more on horseback to reach the capital of the North. It was hard for me to leave my family's ancestral home having arrived so recently. I had gotten used to the smell of salt in the air, to the freedom of my walks on the beach, the wind and the waves that crashed against the cliffs. I could only hope that one day I would return.

The ship in which we would travel would be the same one that brought us from Eastwatch and I discovered with satisfaction that the cabins that Jon and I would occupy were the same as well. I wished we could resume our habit of spending time alone, but I also knew it would be more complicated now that Missandei, Tyrion and Varys were traveling with us.

Being surrounded by so many people, our encounters were limited to disguised brushes, smiles and looks across the table and on a couple of occasions to stolen kisses under the shadows of the staircase. I had the impression that Tyrion suspected that something was happening between us, but he was polite enough not to talk about it. Both Jon and I were aware of the complications that could arise if our relationship became known ahead of time. If the northerners found out that he was taking me to the Stark’s home not only as an ally but as something more intimate, it would result in a setback. We knew it, even if we wished we did not.

On the fourth night on board, I decided to leave early to my cabin. Dinner had been monotonous since Jon, Tyrion, Ser Davos and Ser Jorah were discussing defence and attack strategies. I, ignoring the geography of the area, had little to contribute.

Missandei had left after helping me light a few candles around the room. The clouds that threatened with storm prevented the weak moonlight from finding its way through the window. I was reading one of the books I had brought in a trunk from Essos when I heard a couple of subtle footsteps on the other side of the door. Then, three thuds of a fist against the wood. I put the book on the table and went to open it. Under the threshold, Jon looked at me. None spoke. The words were redundant because we both knew what would happen.

I let Jon in and closed the door behind him. The light of the candles accentuated his attractive features and when he took me by the hands, a shudder ran through me. Then he began to kiss me. That kiss was different from the previous ones. There was no shyness or fear, only longing and ardour. His hands released mine and the ambush started. His caresses drew the beginning of a story over my body that surrendered.

My doubts were extinguished, evaporated by the warmth of the fire that sizzled along my veins. Strands of silver and crimson seemed to float in that electrifying atmosphere. They were interwoven with the filaments of time that extended around us; the minutes appeared to slow down as a gift. I could almost see lightings and fire in his eyes. Maybe it was the storm that had broken loose or the intoxicating desire that was born inside my chest and died in the depths of his eyes.

Without knowing how, his body was already trapping mine against the bed. No... he did not trap me. He freed me. His misty breath dampened my expectant skin as my hands clung to his back in an attempt to tell him not to abandon me. Suddenly, our eyes met; in the midst of a shiver we murmur an "I love you".

There, in that ordinary cabin, he made me his and I made him mine. With the demanding touch of his lips against my bare shoulders. With his gentle fingers that tried to discover every curve and claim it. With my hand on his chest feeling his heart pounding wildly, just like mine. Cascades of kisses sliding warmly over our scars, wishing they were the balm that relieved them. A melody of sighs finally released.

We were two souls wishing to merge in a dance of bodies and long shadows.

We were two bodies that longed to unite in a sway of shared feelings.

I could feel how the invisible knot that tied me to Jon’s side transformed into something less ethereal. In that moment I knew that, both of us, were beyond the point of no return.


	11. Interlude

DAENERYS  
Jon, the White Wolf, stared at me.

JON  
Dany, the Moon-haired woman, smiled.

MOON AND WOLF  
If love was the way, what would the destiny be?


	12. Part 11

I woke up with my head resting on Jon's shoulder and his arm wrapped tightly around me. His chest rose and fell to the rhythm of his breathing and his parted lips let out a slight whistle. I had had a pretty vivid dream. More than a dream it had been a memory. When I had just arrived in Astapor, many years ago, a recurrent dream had haunted me. In it, a handsome young man lay next to me. I could never identify his appearance because it was just a changing shadow. However, this time the face had finally been defined and it was no other than Jon.

Did destiny exist? Years of living surrounded by visions and prophecies had almost convinced me of the existence of an invisible puppeteer who guided our steps. Observing the man next to me, I began to wonder if the fact of having found him obeyed something bigger than us. After all, the bond that had been established between us felt too deep, even inevitable.

Trying to forget that matter, I limited myself to watch over his dream, since mine had disappeared completely. I could not help but notice the scars I had seen before. They were strange wounds, made with a dagger or something similar, but for some reason they had not healed normally. Being so close, I could make out the bruises that extended beneath the skin surrounding the injuries. Who had done that to him? and why? I stretched my arm and began to outline them gently with the tips of my fingers. I wished I could heal them with just a touch.

\- What are you thinking about, Dany? - his question had taken me off guard, because I had not noticed he had waken.

\- About many things - I said looking at him fixedly.

\- Do you want to tell me? - he said, while caressing my hair.

\- Do you believe in destiny, Jon?

\- Hmmm, I think we're born with a purpose. Is that what you mean?

\- Something similar ... I was wondering if the fact that we met, and we’re here and now, goes beyond us - I paused - Sometimes it feels like ... - I hesitated - like ...

\- As if fate had been responsible for drawing us together - he completed, laughing quietly - As if, somehow, we had been tied side by side with a thread that shortened, until we met…

I looked at him with surprise.

\- You also feel it? - I asked with a mixture of relief and intrigue - When you left Dragonstone the image of that bond seemed to be more real than ever, and when I flew to look for you I trusted that with it, I would find you.

We remained silent and my hand found its way over the marks of his chest and belly. Then he spoke.

\- Ser Davos said I took a knife to the heart for my people - I stopped my caresses and he continued - As you can see, it was not just a way of speaking. While being commander of the Night's Watch, I allowed the Free Folk to cross the Wall. I had seen what inhabits beyond and I saw hundreds of them die in a place called Hardhome. A group of men who did not agree called me a traitor. One night, I was attacked. "For the Guard"; those were his words ...

I clung to Jon in a hug he returned.

\- I died that night, Dany. Only darkness and then nothing. Then, I woke up. As if it had been a dream I opened my eyes and found myself naked with Ghost by my side. A priestess of the Lord of Light brought me back with her red magic. I should not be here.

\- But you are, Jon. It seems to me that after all, you have a purpose to fulfil.

\- That's what Melisandre, the red priestess, said. But I don’t want to know about prophecies and what the flames show. What I know is what I believe in. And I believe that the Great War is the most important challenge we face.

\- Melisandre?

\- Aye

\- He was at Dragonstone shortly before you arrived. He told me about the "prince who was promised." He believes that I have an important role in that story.

\- Witches are wrong, I already told you.

He sat up and moved his face close to mine. We kissed slowly, trying to lengthen the few minutes we knew we had before Jon had to return to his cabin. We parted only a few inches, breathless.

\- Love enters through the eyes - I whispered remembering the words of one of my first maidens, Doreah.

Jon smiled.

\- Then I’ll live in yours forever – he said before kissing me again.

 

– o – o – o – o –

 

It had been a little over a week since we had sailed from Dragonstone. The weather worsened each passing day and it had delayed us. However, according to the captain, we would be arriving in White Harbor the next day.

Since I woke up with Jon for the first time, the question about fate had hunted my thoughts with insistence. He also felt it, but refused to believe it. It was clear that he distrusted magic, even though he lived because of it. I wished I could be a little like him and believe that one day, the prophecies that followed me since I met Mirri Maz Durr would no longer have any meaning.

Jon visited me almost every night. While the crew was asleep, we fled to our personal shelter where we forgot the evil that threatened us. Night after night, we had learned to know each other. His kisses and caresses had left a trail, invisible under the light of day, but that sparkled under the moonlight. Being in his arms was calm and tempest. I had never felt such a contrast before. To lie with Drogo and Daario had been like falling onto a pitch of fire. Instead, Jon and I flew wrapped in icy and warm ribbons.

I spent the last sunset on the ship hanging around the deck next to Missandei. Cold wind blew from the north and carried with it some snowflakes. Ser Davos had offered us some hot wine and then he had left to plan the next day's landing.

\- Soon you’ll meet Grey Worm - I said with a smile - are you happy?

\- Of course, your Highness – she replied as she blushed - He promised to bring with him the most beautiful flower he finds as a gift.

\- Then, we better meet him soon.

\- I also have a gift for him - he said, trying to hide her excitement - do you want to see it, Your Highness?

I nodded and she dug through the pockets of her tunic.

\- I made it myself - she said proudly as she showed me a wide bracelet made with black threads interwoven to some sea shells - An amulet for good luck.

\- I'm sure he'll like it - I replied.

For a moment, I envied Grey Worm and Missandei. Their love without complications was something I could never have. Instead, Jon and I knew that the love we shared would never be ours alone. It was well known that war or politics almost never agreed with love. As shown by the rebellion of Robert Baratheon. A war that ended the Targaryen dynasty because of a woman.

It was almost dark when I decided to take refuge from the cold in my cabin. Barely a few minutes had passed when someone knocked on my door. It was still early for Jon so I opened the door intrigued. It was Tyrion, whose expression told me something was wrong.

\- Your Highness, we must talk.

I let him in and closed the door. We took a seat on opposite sides of the table and I offered him a glass of wine that he accepted.

\- Tell me what's the matter. Has something bad happened?

He seemed uncomfortable. Then I realised what it was about.

\- The late visits of Jon Snow to your cabin haven’t been unnoticed for me - he paused as if waiting for me to say something. As I did not, he continued – The issues you deal with during these meetings are none of my business. However, it is my duty to advise you, Your Highness. It would be quite unfortunate if complications arose under the current situation: a war and then a claim to the throne. You don’t want to put at risk what you have achieved.

\- I know well that matters of the heart have caused war, Tyrion. I've thought about this, do not think I have not. I am certain that we both have, and yet we’ve decided… to take risks.

\- Your Highness, I am not opposed to what occurs between you two. Snow is a good man and you are a good woman, but you not only respond to your heart's desires. You carry something greater on your shoulders; the life of thousands of people. If something happened between you, all those lives would be at risk.

\- Jon will not fail to his word and I will not either. The horrors of this war are, in part, what brought us together and will not be what separate us.

I could read doubt in his face, so I ventured to say:

\- Besides, you’ve said that wars are not only won on the battlefield. They are also won with alliances.

He looked at me surprised.

\- Your Highness, I must also mention the fact that, despite having the support of the army of the North, he has not stopped being a bastard. As long as his surname is Snow, there will always be someone who doubts his rights. That army that has sworn allegiance to him can stop doing it if it sees interests at risk. We still don’t know how the Northern Lords will react to him arriving in Winterfell accompanied by a Targaryen, who he also recognises as Queen and for which he has renounced his title of King in the North.

\- You're right, we still don’t know his reaction. But in a few days we’ll know. We’ll not decide anything until then.

I ended the conversation and he left with concern still imprinted on his face. I tried to distract myself with a book of westerosi legends but it was in vain; Tyrion had raised undeniable arguments. Jon had said that the Northern Houses would support my claim to the throne when they got to see me for what I was, not because of what my father and brother had been. But what would happen if it he was wrong? Was I doomed to be persecuted by the Targaryen stigma until the end of my days?

I did not realise it was dark until three knocks on the door broke the silence. It was Jon. His smile disappeared as soon as he saw my concern.

\- What's going on? - he asked, once we had closed the door.

I told him the conversation I had had with Tyrion, omitting the part of the alliances, of course. When I had finished he looked at me and held my hands in his.

\- I think you and I know what awaits us, right? - I nodded - and still decided to take a chance. What I feel is not just desire, Dany.

\- Nor what I feel is, Jon - I interrupted. I needed him to know it.

\- The Umber, the Glover, the Mormont and all of them chose me as a leader because they trust me and my decisions, why should not they trust me in this one? Maybe they will oppose at the beginning, yes. But I told you, they will also trust you when they discover what you truly are.

He let go of my hands and held my cheeks.

\- Do you know what I see in you? I see strength and determination, I see your need to do things better than they have been. They will also see it.

\- Thank you, Jon. Thanks for trusting me…

\- I've also been thinking about something - he said suddenly as he stood up nervously.

\- Tell me, what it is - I urged him. Part of me thought I knew what he would say next.

\- The best way to establish an alliance is with a marriage.

The word "marriage" kept sailing indefinitely between us until I approached him and with a kiss, we sealed that pact, for now secret.


	13. Part 12

We disembarked in White Harbor at sunset. We would spend a couple of nights at New Castle and then we would continue our journey. It was time to meet the Northern Lord, Lord Wyman Manderly, and an atmosphere of nervousness accompanied us as we approached the castle, following the main road covered by a layer of fresh snow. I knew what I should say. Tyrion and I had formulated the precise words to win his favor during our last morning aboard the ship. Besides, Jon had told me about Lord Wyman; a man considered a fool by many, but who in fact was calculating and intelligent, one of the most faithful vassals of House Stark. Jon hoped that his loyalty would prevail over his objections.

We were greeted by a group of guards who guided us to a sober room with a long table. Sitting in the main place, a large man in his early sixties was waiting for us. Jon led our group, followed by Ser Davos and Tyrion on his left and me on his right.

\- What do we have here? The King in the North, the White Wolf of Winterfell and his companions! - He said in a loud voice - I've been waiting for you for a few days.

\- We apologise for the delay, my Lord - Jon answered - the weather hasn’t been kind.

\- Wretched winter! Snow everywhere, on the roads and on the river. We are practically isolated after each snowfall. The Starks always speak the truth "Winter is coming" and now it is upon us.

Jon nodded before the man continued.

\- But enough of talking about the weather - he paused while looking at me with curiosity.

\- Let me introduce Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen - Jon started. He looked at me sideways and continued - Legitimate Queen of Westeros.

\- A Targaryen in the North - said Lord Wyman laughing - I never thought I would live to see it.

Suddenly his expression changed and covered with a shadow of anger.

\- What would your father, Lord Snow, would have thought if he saw you bending the knee to the sister of the one who kidnapped Lady Lyanna? The daughter of the Mad King, who burned Lord Brandon alive.

My pride overcame the nervousness and I spoke.

\- It is true, dragon blood runs through my veins. I am the daughter of King Aerys and sister of Prince Rhaegar, but I am not them. I must not be blamed for crimes that occurred before my birth.

\- Aye, that’s correct. But do you really expect us to accept as your Queen, a foreigner? What do you know about Westeros, having lived all your life outside the Kingdom?

This conversation was not going well.

\- It seems to me, my Lord, that we have more pressing issues to deal with, than my right to the Throne. I have come here as an ally for the Great War that is coming.

\- That’s right, Lord Manderly. If we do not unite as a Kingdom, there will be nothing left - Jon contributed - Even Queen Cersei has agreed to send her troops for the defence of the North.

\- Hmmmm - the man muttered - I can understand that Queen Cersei seeks to protect the North. But you, do you expect us to back your claim to the Throne in exchange for your support?

\- Lord Manderly - I said - I have seen face to face the evil that dwells on the other side of the Wall. The battle against the Others became a personal matter the moment when an icy spear brought down one of my children…

\- My Lord, Queen Daenerys saved my life and that of others - Jon continued - If it had not been for her and her dragons we would not be here on our way to Winterfell. What greater proof do you need of her commitment to the cause?

Lord Wyman reflected for a moment, scratching his broad belly.

\- Well - he finally said - I am loyal to House Stark, and if Lord Snow trusts you, I will too. Welcome to the North, Daenerys Stormborn of the Targaryen House.

 

– o – o – o – o –

 

After having shared bread and salt, as tradition dictates, we settled in our rooms. Mine had a small balcony overlooking the docks. However, I kept the door closed. Snowflakes began to fall with increasing insistence and with them, the winter cold covered us with his cloak.

It was nice to be on solid ground after the constant rocking of the ocean. The fireplace burned and spilled its warmth through the room so I decided to sit in front of it, on a colossal chair decorated with cushions, and wait for dinner. Almost immediately I fell into a peaceful sleep.

Several insistent knocks on the door woke me up. Half stunned, I approached to open it. It was Missandei with a servant who had been sent to lead us to the dining room. After fixing my appearance in front of a mirror stained by the edges, Missandei and I followed him. It was not a pretty castle. The salty air had caused humidity on most of the walls and the wind was able to strain through the cracks in the windows.

We entered the banquet hall where a long table presided over smaller ones perpendicular to it. A large chandelier hung in the centre and a row of torches decorated the walls. Missandei took a seat at one of the tables next to Ser Davos and Tyrion, and I followed the boy to my place between Lord Manderly and Jon. The first one had not arrived yet. However, I could see two girls at the other end of the table. From what Jon had told me, they should be Wylla and Wynafryd, granddaughters of Lord Wyman. Wylla was blonde, but she dyed her hair with a striking green colour. The other was brunette and seemed to be the oldest. Both chatted quietly, although I noticed how the green-haired girl looked over her shoulder towards Jon. He seemed not to notice, not even when their laughter broke the silence. "You know nothing, Jon" I thought, trying to hide a smile.

The doors opened and Lord Manderly appeared, followed by a man who must have been his son, a woman, his daughter-in-law, and other people I did not know. It was not a great congregation. In any case, the loneliness of the past few years had made me a little taciturn and a tingling appeared in the palm of my hands. Jon noticed my discomfort and slipped his hand under the table to take mine briefly. I silently thanked him and dinner started.

Hot broths with clams and mussels, huge fishes decorated with lemon slices, octopuses and squids with herbs. Sea food was not my favourite; even so, I tried every dish they offered me. My biggest surprise was the wine because I recognised the taste of grapes harvested in Essos.

\- The Dornish brag about their wine. But in my opinion there is no such as Essos wine - commented Lord Wyman with a wink. His face was already reddened by the abundant food and drink.

\- Essos wine is sweeter - I added - I prefer it to Dorne's.

\- And you Lord Snow, which one do you prefer? - the big man asked.

\- It seems to me, my Lord, that years of drinking the same hot wine in the Wall has ruined my taste forever - answered Jon with a half smile.

Lord Manderly burst out laughing before turning to talk to his son. I looked at Jon, who was searching his fish for bones and I smiled. I liked to watch him when he did not realise I was. As I had discovered weeks ago in Dragonstone, when he believed that no one noticed him, he became the shy, carefree kid he must have been before joining the Watch. Looking back at my plate, I discovered Tyrion watching us and subtly shaking his head "Why everything has to be so complicated?" I thought.

 

– o – o – o – o –

 

We had started the journey to Winterfell on the second morning after arriving in White Harbor. Sailing northwest on the White Knife river would have been the most sensible option. But winter had settled completely in the region and the waters laid motionless. There was no choice but to walk along the riverbank on foot until we reached the Kingsroad and from there follow it until we reached the gates of the northern capital. We were traveling in four large carriages: one for Lord Manderly and his son, one for Jon and Ser Davos, the third I shared with Missandei and the last one for Tyrion and Varys.

Since we had disembarked, my encounters with Jon had almost completely disappeared. We could not risk an indiscretion to further complicate our situation. We had agreed to decide what to do about our engagement once we knew the reaction of the Northern Lords, which would happen upon arriving in Winterfell. Too much was at stake: the Great War, the Iron Throne, our future as a couple, would it be possible to emerge victorious in all that? I wanted to believe it was.

We had spent almost a week in caravan when we finally reached the junction with the Kingsroad. They decided to rest there and I, fed up with the confinement and monotony, went for a walk wrapped in a thick fur coat. The hood protected me from the glare of the snow under the sun that, although it shone high in the sky, it did not warm us enough. I walked slowly as my feet buried in the snow. Finally, I arrived to a clearing in the forest. Nature rose still and sad around me. The bare trees stretched their branches, as if they claimed sun in silence. Not a murmur broke the silence, for the birds must have already migrated to more friendly lands.

Then, a pair of footsteps urged me to turn clumsily on my heels. It was Jon. Seeing him in that winter landscape was captivating. As if an ancient spirit of the North inhabited in him. It seemed impossible to imagine Jon anywhere than in the cold North.

\- You shouldn’t be here - I said, although I was really glad he was.

\- Don’t worry. No one followed me - he replied as he wrapped me in a hug and kissed my forehead - Everyone seems to hate snow, except you apparently.

\- I missed you, Jon - I answered.

\- Me too, Dany. In fact, I hoped to see you alone before we got to Winterfell.

\- Why? - I asked, intrigued.

\- I have something for you - he said, as he took something out of one of his pockets.

It took me off guard. A gift. It had been a long time since someone had given me one. He extended his hand to me and opened his fist to reveal a small white figure that hung from a leather string.

\- Jon - I said, moved – it is truly beautiful.

It was a miniature dragon with its wings open and its tail coiled.

\- I carved it in a dragon bone. Do you like it?

\- It’s perfect. Help me to put it on.

I turned around so that Jon tied it to my neck and I observed the details of the pendant that now hung over my chest.

\- Thanks - I said before stretching to place a soft kiss on his lips.

We returned to where the carriages were waiting and, as Jon had said, they all sheltered inside them. I went to mine and entered, not before verifying that my new necklace was well hidden. Soon, we resumed our journey. Winterfell awaited our arrival.

 

– o – o – o – o –

 

I walked lost in the middle of a winter storm. It was impossible for me to see anything beyond a few steps. The wind stirred my hair and the snow fell on my skin like icy needles. Despair and abandonment were the only emotions I felt. The time seemed to have frozen, days could have passed and I would not have noticed. I only walked trying to find the way or a sign at least in this wasteland devoid of trees. Abandonment. Despair. Loneliness.

Then a faint light appeared in the distance. A torch? How could a torch be lit under such a storm? I picked up my pace and came across a tent made of furs. It was strangely familiar. I ran the deerskin that served as a door and entered. It was a dothraki tent. One of many in which I slept as travelling the Great Grass Sea while being a Khaleesi. Khal Drogo, my sun and my stars awaited for me, and on his knees Rhaego, my little unborn child.

\- Jalan atthirari anni – he said - Moon of my life.

I had not heard his voice for so long that I discovered that I had almost forgotten its sound. I approached him and held the child I never knew. A beautiful baby with dark skin and silver hair. The storm seemed to intensify outside. A blink and I was no longer inside the tent but on the frozen lake beyond the Wall. A dying roar filled the air with dissenting echoes. Viserion fell before my eyes with the spear embedded on his side while the voice of Mirri Maz Duur ringed from everywhere:

\- Only one death can pay for one life…

Then, I woke up.


	14. Part 13

Missandei slept a few meters away, oblivious to my unrestrained heartbeat and my ragged breathing after that dream. No, not a dream. Old and recent memories merged to appear during my rest. The vision of Drogo and Rhaego in the House of the Undying and the death of Viserion had crept insidiously into my subconscious that insisted on reminding me of what I have lost.

"Only death can pay for life." These words still haunted me after so many years. The death of the child in my womb had been the price for the life of my Sun and Stars. Yes, I had paid for his heart to beat and his lungs to fill with air. But his body had been nothing more than a broken and empty shell. And Rhaego, the baby I never knew. They told me that it was just a deformed little body, with the skin covered with scales. Even now I refused to believe it. I wanted to imagine him as the child with smooth skin and rosy cheeks who sat on Drogo's lap.

Clinging to the vision of that reality that would never exist but that comforted me, I managed to appease myself. I sat up and looked through one of the small windows of the carriage. We were definitely in the North. The bare trees contrasted with the snowy white of the ground and the horizon. Fine icicles hung from the branches that hovered over the Kingsroad and a soft, though persistent snowstorm fell over us.

We would arrive at Winterfell mid-morning, according to what Jon had said the day before. As the hours passed, my restlessness increased. Not only would I face the Northern Lords, but also Jon's family. I could not help but wonder if Sansa, Arya, and Bran Stark would judge me as harshly as Lord Manderly had. My last name had been nothing more than a stigma. I hoped that, soon, I would have the opportunity to prove my worth.

I spent the morning looking at the landscape through the window. My thoughts kept spinning around the upcoming meeting. Missandei's exclamation of amazement drew me from my musings. Winterfell had become visible after a turn in the road. It was truly imposing, with its towers, battlements and walls; a winter fortress. In the distance, the sound of a horn reverberated through the forest. They announced our arrival.

 

– o – o – o – o –

 

I got off the carriage wrapped in a long fur coat with a hood. Drogon and Rhaegal seemed to have stayed behind, looking for food surely, and were not in sight. The cold air numbed the tip of my nose and, in combination with my nervousness, made my teeth rattled slightly. I walked towards Jon who stood a few meters away and we looked at each other briefly. His eyes said that everything would be fine. I followed him closely as we crossed the entrance arch to the courtyard and we approached the group of people that welcomed us. Behind them, two banners with the Stark direwolf hung on both sides of the entrance to the castle.

A sigh of relief escaped Jon's lips as soon as he saw his siblings. A girl, dressed with a sword on her waist, approached Jon quickly, who was waiting for her with open arms. It must have been Arya Stark. Further back, an older girl with reddish hair looked at them with a smile. Beside her, Bran Stark sat on a chair with wheels. Despite being younger than his sisters, his serious face indicated otherwise. He watched the scene with stoicism.

Jon left us to talk briefly to Lady Sansa, Bran and other strangers. While he greeted a fat man I felt a warm presence beside me. I turned to my right and found myself under the attentive look of a direwolf as white as the snow. Ghost watched me intently as if trying to decide whether he liked me or not. Jon had told me so much about him that I could not resist stretching my hand, waiting for him to accept my touch. Almost immediately, he approached, sniffing curiously. He seemed to like me, so I buried my fingers in the soft fur behind his ears.

Entertained as I was in the company of Ghost, I had not noticed that those present kept silent and watched me with interest. Reluctantly I got away from the direwolf and walked towards Jon who awaited to introduce me.

\- Meet Queen Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. As I mentioned in the letter I sent a few weeks ago, she has allied with us in the Great War that is coming.

\- Winterfell is yours, your Grace - Lady Sansa said. Her voice was kind, but her gaze told me that my presence did not pleased her completely.

\- I appreciate your hospitality, Lady Sansa - I answered - You must be Arya and Bran Stark.

The first one observed me with a kinder gesture than her sister's. I noticed she looked out to the sky every now and then; maybe expecting to see my dragons. As for Bran, he seemed to see beyond me. As if he knew something, that I did not. The depth and hardness of his gaze made a shiver run down my back.

\- The Lords await impatiently the meeting, Jon - Sansa said breaking the silence.

\- They’ll have to wait a little longer - Jon answered - At least a few hours so that Your Highness can change clothes and rest for a while. They’ll understand that the journey has been long.

Lady Sansa nodded briefly before leaving.

\- It’s good we’re all back - Arya said with a smile, while she and Jon embraced again – Your Highness - she said to me.

Finally, the fat man whom Jon had greeted said:

\- Jon, Bran and I must talk to you - he looked at me sideways - It's important.

\- We can surely wait until tonight, Sam – Bran added.

\- Very well - Jon answered - Tonight. If you’ll excuse us, we’ll settle in our rooms.

Some servants who had appeared began to lead us into the castle. Jon asked me to follow him and I did. We walked through several corridors and climbed some stairs until we reached a hallway lit by torches. When he reached the last door on our right, he stopped.

\- It was my brother’s room, Robb - he said opening the door - It has been empty for some years, but I trust you’ll be comfortable.

I went in and looked around. A large bed stood in the back, a table rested under the window, and several cushions and furs lay in front of the fireplace. The warmth of the flames flooded the space, making it cosy. I turned to thank him.

\- Jon, is everything alright? - I asked. He had stood under the threshold and stared around the room.

\- Aye, I'm sorry - he said, trying to recover.

He took a few steps and closed the door behind him.

\- It's just that I hadn’t set foot in this room for a long time - he added with a sad smile - I was trying to remember the last time.

I approached him and caressed his cheek.

\- I can occupy any other room, Jon. If you don’t feel comfortable with me being here…

He denied quickly.

\- No, it'll be fine. You’ll bring joy to these four walls.

He pulled me to his chest and held my waist. In return, I laced my hands on the back of his neck and stood on my toes to brush his lips against mine.

\- You should go, Lord Snow - I whispered with a smile - We would not want to outrage the Lords if they were to find us like this.

\- No… - he said burying his head against my neck - I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here with you.

He embraced me more firmly, while he ran the tip of his nose from the base of my ear to the collarbone and back. His contact gave me the confidence to face what was about to come.

Then, we parted when we heard a noise on the other side of the door. Jon walked to the fireplace and as soon as I felt the guilt had erased from our faces, I opened the door. When I saw who it was, I let out a long sigh.

\- Look who found us - I said, stepping aside.

\- Ghost - Jon said, as relieved as I was, while the direwolf snorted around the room.

I returned to Jon with the animal close behind me.

\- He seems to like you.

\- He reminds me of you - I said suddenly - If you were a wolf, you’d be Ghost. Now I understand why they call you the White Wolf of Winterfell.

We had been looking at Ghost. He had lay in front of the fire and with his intelligent eyes followed the incandescent embers that rised.

\- I think I must leave now - Jon said, before kissing my forehead - Missandei will sleep in the room next to the stairs that we climbed, in case you need her. I’ll be in the first room in the next corridor and my siblings further down. I'll send someone to take you to the meeting room in a couple of hours.

I nodded. He had already crossed the threshold when he turned and called Ghost.

\- Come on, Ghost. Daenerys wants to rest.

The wolf seemed unperturbed and, after yawning, he rested his snout on his front legs.

\- I think he prefers to stay with me. It's fine, he’ll keep me company.

Jon walked away mumbling something under his breath.

\- Traitor… - I heard him say, while a smile of amusement appeared on my lips.

 

– o – o – o – o –

 

I entered the meeting room next to Jon and Tyrion, with Ghost following me. Strangely, the direwolf had not left my side since he had arrived in my room a few hours ago. I liked his presence. The room, once riddled with murmurs, had been in silence as soon as the northerners saw us enter. We approached the long table that presided over the room and Jon helped me to take a seat at his right.

Ghost had disappeared under the table to lie at my feet and it seemed to me that everyone looked at him in amazement. I looked at the sea of faces, but the fact of finding myself among strangers did not help with my growing tension. Sansa was sitting on the other side of Jon, Arya and Bran watched from a corner, Ser Davos, Ser Jorah and Missandei formed a strange trio a few meters to my left, and Lord Manderly had taken a seat almost at the back.

\- My Lords and Ladies, I would like to introduce you to Queen Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, legitimate heir to the Iron Throne.

I stood up while the audience erupted in whispers.

\- A Targaryen in Winterfell… - said a grey-haired man - Do you think it’s wise?

\- Wise? - a second, much younger gentleman, spoke - We cannot trust a Targaryen! Lord Brandon and Lord Rickard died at the whim of the Mad King, Lady Lyanna died because of Prince Rhaegar…

"Enough”, I thought.

\- My Lords and Ladies - I said trying to seem confident - I know very well the sins of my family. It’s not necessary to list them again and again. I’ve said it and I repeat it: I am not my father, and I am not my brother.

\- She has proven to be a reliable ally - added Jon - You have received the news of what happened beyond the Wall. She risked everything for the success of that mission.

Taking advantage of a moment of silence, I continued.

\- Lord Snow said it. I have come as an ally. I have seen the threat face to face and I can assure you that the only way to defeat the Army of the Dead is if we fight together.

\- Are you seeking to win our favour by fighting by our side, Your Grace? - A severe-looking girl had spoken and was staring at me.

\- I have come without conditions - I said - What happens next… we’ll see.

\- Lord Snow may have promised to call you Queen - added an old man hidden in the shadows - But not for that we’ll do it as well.

\- Lord Glover – Jon interrupted - My promise has not been made lightly. I have seen the truth about Queen Daenerys and when you see it, you will understand.

Before the expressions of disbelief and suspicion, he continued.

\- You may say that she is young or inexperienced. That she didn’t grow as westerosi. But she has proven to be a strong, courageous and compassionate woman. He came from the east with an army that has followed her out of conviction, because they have chosen to. Tell me, who in Westeros has achieved that?

\- You, Lord Snow - said the girl - We chose you King in the North not because of your surname, but because we find a true leader in you.

\- And now you’ve bent the knee before this ... Queen ... who is allied with a Lannister and a treacherous Mormont - Lord Glover had spoken again.

\- My Lord, Tyrion Lannister has proven to be a faithful and wise counsellor. As you remember, a Lannister murdered my father. But I have managed to see beyond the surname and have found in him a valuable ally. As for Ser Jorah Mormont, his sword and his advice have been mine before I became to be what I am now. I have no reason to distrust him.

\- You're right, Lady Mormont - Jon said to the girl. I glanced at Ser Jorah - You chose me as your King because you trusted me. Now I appeal to that confidence and ask you to trust Queen Daenerys. At least for the war to come.

\- My Lords and Ladies - I said looking at the youngest Lady – Everyone in here has the same goal: to survive the winter and the terrors that come with it.

Lady Mormont was the first to speak:

\- House Mormont will trust on Daenerys Targaryen. At least in the Great War. Then - she paused – we shall see.

A cascade of voices of approval followed her words. However, several pairs of eyes still looked at me with suspicion.

 

– o – o – o – o –

 

We dined in a room similar to the meeting room, but larger. The high ceiling held a pair of rustic chandeliers and several torches lit up the tables from the columns that ran along the perimeter. The food was simple, but I liked the comforting warmth of the steaming dishes. We ate stew with mushrooms and potatoes, venison pastries with tubers of some kind, rabbit with vegetables and for dessert, lemon cakes; all washed down by hot wine and mead.

Ghost was still my shadow. He had placed himself between Jon's chair and mine, and he enjoyed the little pieces of flesh and bones that I dropped in secret. We had almost finished with the desserts when Sam - who now I knew was Jon's friend since his days at the Wall - came over to say something I could not hear. Jon nodded and before getting up and following him, he spoke quietly into my ear.

\- Don’t lock your door tonight - he said. I nodded slightly.

Dinner continued for almost another hour. The Northerners were cheerful people once they had eaten and drunk. The Stark sisters chatted a short distance to my left. Tyrion talked to Ser Jorah, and Ser Davos entertained Missandei. How I wished Jon were there. Even if we had not talked like when we were alone, at least I would not feel so lonely.

Then I saw Jon coming back followed by Sam, who pushed Bran's chair. He seemed irritated. Our eyes crossed, but only for a moment because he immediately looked away and frowned. He approached his sisters, exchanged a couple of words and left once again without even looking at me again. A heaviness began to take hold of my chest. Jon had ignored me and I did not have the slightest idea why. I tried to find an explanation, but to no avail. It was something Jon would not do.

I took advantage of the fact that everyone was immersed in their conversations and I left the room willing to clarify the matter. I did not think I would be able to sleep knowing that something important had happened. With difficulty, I reached the hallway where my room was; the castle was a true labyrinth for any first-time visitor. I kept walking until I found the next corridor, where Jon had told his own room was. Followed by Ghost, I opened the door without knocking. The room was empty, only a sad fire crackled in the far corner. Disappointed, I closed the door and retraced my steps to my bedroom.

The dark silhouettes of my children contrasted with the white of the full moon that crowned the clear sky. I had spent the last few hours lying in the middle of a jumble of skins and watching the nocturnal dance of Drogon and Rhaegal, who had returned from their expedition. Ghost lay next to me and rested his head on my belly while I ran my fingers through his head. What would have happened? What would they have told him?

I went over our last conversation again and again, here in this very room. Nothing could explain his behaviour. Filled with uncertainty and a sensation of an icy block inside my chest, I tried to fall asleep. Feeling as if the bond that linked me to Jon slipped slowly out of my reach. Knowing that the unlocked door would remain closed until dawn.


	15. Part 14

More than a couple of nights had passed since Jon had started behaving so distant. Every morning I woke up sick to my stomach and feeling as if I were still dreaming. In my dreams, different scenarios came together as pieces of a puzzle. In some, everything had been no more than a misunderstanding and Jon behaved as charming as ever. In others, the distance grew until Jon became a strange being whom I did not recognize. Even when I was awake, I could not erase from my mind the empty look he gave me at that first dinner at Winterfell.

Since then, we had barely met. I knew very well that he had been avoiding me. At breakfast and dinner he ate quickly and then left along Sam and Bran. If we crossed paths in the hallways, He would pass by without even looking at me. I had tried talking to him, but until now it had been useless. The times I called him, he pretended not to have heard me and he quickened his pace. Missandei and Tyrion knew that something had happened as I had surprised them looking at me with concern. I only gave them a hollow smile. A Queen could not afford to show a broken heart. Even less among so many strangers who still doubted my intentions. Even if I wanted to, I could not just chase him and demand explanations.

One morning with no clouds that foreshadowed snow, I decided to go for a walk in the courtyard. Ghost was gone, probably to find food, and I was alone. Days before I had seen a viewpoint on the highest part of the battlements so I went there. I climbed a few rambling wooden stairs that creaked under my weight and approached the edge of the wall. It was in the eastern part of the castle and from there I could see a moor, where Drogon and Rhaegal seemed to have settled. The ground was covered in snow except where the dragons rested. Their warm breath must have melted the ice and a layer of clay and ashes had been exposed.

Thoughtful as I was, I barely noticed the pair of shy footsteps that approached me from behind. "Jon," I thought. It was not him, but Arya Stark.

\- Good morning, Lady Stark - I said.

\- Good morning… Your Grace - she hesitated.

\- Is something wrong, my Lady? - I asked. Since I had arrived at Winterfell we had not talked, so it seemed strange to me that she was here.

\- Ohh no. I've seen you alone and decided to keep you company, if you don’t mind.

\- Not at all - I said, with the first honest smile in days.

\- Your dragons - she said looking at them in amazement – they’re beautiful.

\- Yes they are - I definitely liked this girl - Although you seem to be the first to think so.

\- I’m sorry for what happened to Viserion - I looked at her with confusion - Jon told us what happened beyond the Wall – she added.

\- Thank you. I miss him every day, just like his brothers do.

\- The Mother of Dragons - she said – People talked about you in the streets of Braavos. About how the Dragon Queen planned to return to Westeros and reclaim the Iron Throne.

\- Were you in Braavos? - I asked with interest - I grew up there.

\- I lived there some time. When I heard about your dragons: Viserion, Rhaegal and the fearsome Drogon I wanted to see them with my own eyes. And now here they are, just like me.

We remained in silence, while my children spread their wings and took off to fly over us.

\- I grew up listening to the stories about the Conquest - she said – Tales about the time Visenya, Rhaenys and Aegon arrived in Westeros riding Vhagar, Meraxes and Balerion, the Black Dread, and how the dragons eventually disappeared. Until now.

\- Old Nan’s stories? - I asked, smiling.

\- Do you know about Old Nan? – She asked with surprise.

\- Jon - I paused, realising my mistake - Lord Snow, I mean, told me about her.

\- No, she did not tell those - she said, with her eyes fixed on something invisible - but my father did. Although not to Sansa. She never liked war stories.

We continued chatting for a few minutes until Arya announced she had to go; the master-at-arms was waiting for her in the armoury. I decided to return to the castle, my children had disappeared on the horizon. I walked absent-mindedly. The cold seemed to have intimidated the inhabitants of the castle, for there was no one in sight. When I turned a corner, I was surprised to find myself facing Jon. I read discomfort on his face as he tried to dodge me and hasten his pace. But enough was enough. I would not allow it.

\- Jon - I called him - You cannot keep doing this. Tell me once and for all, what’s happening? What have I done?

He slowed down and turned to me. When I saw his expression I felt a long needle stuck between my lungs.

\- It happens that we cannot continue with this, Daenerys - he said harshly - It should have never started in the first place. It was a mistake to allow it.

\- What are you saying? - I said, while some tears began to appear, without me being able to avoid it.

\- What you heard. I cannot be with you… I don’t want to.

\- So, is this all? - I said with my voice choked with sadness.

I could not believe this was happening. It seemed to be the scene of one of the nightmares that had been harassing me for days. Except that the pain was real. I tried to reach his hand. Maybe if he felt my skin against his, he would come out of the spell that seemed to blind him. What we had lived and shared, what we had felt… it could not have been just an illusion. But before I even touched him, he abruptly withdrew his arm and walked away.

\- I'm sorry… Your Grace - he murmured, before leaving.

A storm of feelings began to hover over me. Uneasiness, sadness, anger and loss. The latent feeling of emptiness. I clung to the knot that joined my side that of the man who was parting, as if it were the anchor that would prevent me from floating adrift. However, the thought that he would not be holding the other end was unbearable. Bending over, I emptied my stomach between a couple of barrels. With a ragged breath because of the discomfort and growing cold, I headed towards the moor I had seen before. I needed to escape.

 

– o – o – o – o –

 

Drogon and Rhaegal were already waiting when I reached the snowless ground. I mounted the first and we rose. As the castle became smaller, I could feel my sorrow lessen. The torrent of tears was now just a thin stream that rolled over my frozen cheeks. Flying always managed to appease me and what I needed most at that moment was to control what I felt. I could not go back to Winterfell with crying eyes and broken voice.

I let the wind dry my face and drag the words Jon had uttered.  
"It was a mistake…"  
"I cannot be with you…"  
"I don’t want to…"  
Every time I repeated them in silence, they seemed more unreal. The Jon I had come to know could not have told them. Part of me, wanted to believe that he was lying; I refused to accept that I had been living a delusion. However, I was afraid to convince myself of it because if what he had said was true, the pain would be even greater.

We had been wandering from north to south and from east to west. I had lost the notion of time; the sun was about to disappear and dense clouds had appeared. As soon as I noticed it, the first snowflakes began to fall. I told Drogon to take me back and he headed southwest. The snowfall worsen by the second. The soft flakes had turned into tiny needles of ice that swirled in the wind.

Suddenly, the winter storm was so intense that it did not allow me to see beyond where my hands hold tightly. I had lost all sense of direction. Wherever I looked, only the orange glow of twilight accompanied me against the snow and the incessant whistling of the wind in my ears. I started shivering from head to toe. My coat was so soaked that my skin felt wet and icy.

It seemed to me that we had been trying to find Winterfell for hours. The glow had disappeared as the night began to fall upon us. A throbbing fear seized me. I had no choice but to trust that Drogon would return me to Winterfell's safety. My numb body struggled to stay on my mount and my mind struggled to stay awake. How silly I felt, risking myself in this way had been stupid. I should not have flown away that far, nor let the night taken me by surprise. The world around me went off intermittently. Until, suddenly, there was only darkness.

 

– o – o – o – o –

 

I slowly opened my eyes. I could make out the faint glow of the fire a few meters away and a dark silhouette that walked from side to side in the room. I tried to sit up, but the heaviness was too much. My body was imprisoned in a shell of fur and a white bundle lay beside me. "Ghost," I thought. "I am safe". My vision had cleared and I discovered Tyrion standing in front of the fireplace and Missandei sitting in front of it.

\- I’m sorry - I said hoarsely.

\- For the Gods! - Tyrion exclaimed - You should not have left! We believed the worst for hours…

\- I know… I'm sorry - I repeated. My regret was genuine - What happened? How did you find me?

\- We had been looking for you for hours. No one had seen you since Jon Snow found you in the courtyard. Then the snowfall began - he kept silence for a moment and continued - We had no choice but to come back to the castle and pray to the Old Gods and New that you could get back on your own. It was then that we heard the roars of Drogon and Rhaegal that landed not far from here. Upon arriving, your unconscious body lay between Drogon’s wings. Snow was the only one with enough nerve to climb the dragon's back.

When I did not say anything, Tyrion continued.

\- What happened, Your Highness? What made you fly away like that?

\- I did not intend to take too long to come back - I answered - I just needed to get away for a moment. 

\- Does Jon Snow have anything to do with this? - he asked without a warning.

It took me off guard, I was not ready to answer that question. I did not want to lie to him, but neither did I feel comfortable telling him the truth. I did not have many options so I just nodded.

\- But you don’t have to worry about our… relationship anymore. It's over - I had not expected it to hurt so much to say it out loud. Now it was real.

I looked away, hoping he could not discover the broken heart that hid behind my watery eyes. I was grateful he did not make any comment and I got distracted rubbing Ghost's snout while he licked the tips of my fingers.

\- Your Highness... - I turned, only to notice concern on Tyrion’s eyes – There’s something you must know.

Then someone knocked on the door. Missandei, who had been quiet in her place near the fireplace, opened it.

\- Good evening, Your Grace, Lord Tyrion – the maester had arrived with several bottles of different sizes - Have she awakened yet?

\- Fortunately - Tyrion replied - She looks fine. Nothing that a couple of days of rest can’t fix.

As the man approached, I heard him whispering a few words to Tyrion:

\- Does she know?

"Know what," I thought.

\- No, not yet - Tyrion answered equally quietly – I was about to tell her, but since you are here…

I noticed discomfort in both men.

\- What must I know? - I asked decisively.

\- My Lady... Your Grace - the master said – You’re pregnant.

Suddenly, the four wall that surrounded me seemed to be as far as ever. I brought my hands to my belly and closed my eyes.


	16. Part 15

Sheltered under the darkness of my eyelids, I let the voices around me fade away. "You’re pregnant," they had said. "Impossible" I thought. My womb had been doomed to remain empty. "It must be a mistake".

\- That can’t be possible - I said, convinced – You must be wrong.

\- When did you bleed for the last time? - the old man asked.

I tried to remember, going back to the events of the last days, which turned into weeks, and then into… months.

\- Almost two moons ago - I said in disbelief - The last time I still was in Dragonstone.

\- It matches my diagnosis.

My face contracted in a rictus of discomfort and uneasiness. A little more than a month ago we had sailed to White Harbor and Jon had visited my room for the first time.

\- Of course you don’t have to worry. You’ve my confidentiality, Your Grace - he added with kindness - What you need for now is rest.

I nodded briefly.

\- I brought you some tonics that will help you. Drink a spoon every morning and night - anticipating my question, he continued - Do not worry, they won’t harm the baby.

The old maester left the room and Missandei, Tyrion and I were left under a unsettling silence.

\- Your Garce... - Tyrion cleared his throat - I thought you couldn’t have children; that your dragons would be the only children you would ever have.

\- I thought so too - I said, staring at the fire.

\- It's a good thing, Your Majesty – Missandei said, looking at me with joy – You’re going to have a baby. You must tell Lord Snow.

Tyrion and I turned to her abruptly. If she knew what was happening - what had happened - with Jon, probably others knew as well. It would only be a matter of time before the news caused complications. Noticing our reaction, she apologised quickly.

\- I didn’t mean to be indiscreet, Your Highness.

I should be happy, it was true. However, a bittersweet feeling overwhelmed me. What would happen if the maester was wrong, or if my womb, torn by the failed pregnancy, could not support the child that grew inside me? My heart could not bear another loss. Not after Rhaego and Viserion. But if my child lived, would I give birth to a child without a father? No. I knew Jon would not allow it. I was saddened by the possibility of living next to the man I loved without him feeling the same for me. If Jon had spoken with the truth, and his love did not exist, I would be condemned to a life of unsatisfied longing and unrequited affection.

\- Your Highness - Tyrion's voice brought me back to reality - what happened between you and Jon Snow?

"Enough of secrets and half-truths," I thought.

\- He doesn’t want to be with me. He says it was a mistake - I replied, while the sweet Missandei took my hand - I should have realised that it would be too much… maybe for both of us.

Tyrion walked up and down and Ghost watched him intently.

\- Any particular reason? - he asked - Did you get upset or argue about something?

I denied in silence.

\- No. It took me by surprise. Everything seemed so… perfect - a bitter laugh left my throat - We had even… - I stopped.

Tyrion looked at me expectantly. 

\- We had even talked about marriage.

Even as I looked at the soft deerskin that covered me, I could see the stares fixed on me.

\- Marriage - Tyrion said with astonishment - But he's a bastard, Your Majesty. We had already discussed it.

\- Anyway, bastard or not, it doesn’t matter anymore - I answered with irritation.

\- You must talk to Snow as soon as possible. You need to clarify your position, before it's too late.

\- I know, Tyrion… But not now. I need to rest.

Tyrion left the room and Missandei returned to her place by the fire after insisting on keeping me company. I lay staring at the ceiling beams while trying to mimic Ghost's soft breathing. I had to sleep, but the aftermath of the last events insisted on keeping me awake. I wanted to close my eyes and be able to empty my mind and heart of all feeling. I wanted to forget the love I felt for Jon and the pain he had caused me, to erase hope and fear for the life that grew within me. But my mind fluttered between these thoughts, and although I managed to fall asleep, my dreams were filled with unborn babies, heavy snowfalls and broken hearts.

 

– o – o – o – o –

 

Two nights had passed since that fateful day. The first awakening had been the worst in many years: the reality felt a hundred times worse than the nightmare. Missandei spent most of the day keeping me company, as did Jon's wolf. Secretly, I expected him to visit me; but he had not. Missandei had confided to me that he constantly enquired about my health, and even suggested that his absence was due to his duties as Lord of Winterfell. "That must be the reason," I said to myself, before my conscience recriminated the fact of continuing to wait for an indication of affection. Now more than ever, knowing that I carried his child, I refused to accept that his words were true.

The previous day, the army of Unsullied and Dothraki had arrived at Winterfell, as well as a group of men led by Lord Howland Reed. Tyrion had said that Lord Reed was one of the most faithful and intimate friends of Lord Eddard Stark. For all I knew, they had fought side by side during the Rebellion. He had witnessed the legendary combat in which Lord Stark defeated Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, in the Tower of Joy. Lord Reed had not been present at the assembly on our arrival and I meeting him intimidated me. If anyone could influence the opinions of Northmen, that was Howland Reed.

By the third day I had fully recovered and the maester allowed me to return to my routine, as long as I continued to drink the brews he had prepared for me. I decided that I would meet with my trusted men: Grey Worm, my bloodriders, Missandei, Tyrion, Varys and Jorah, to discuss the details of the trip. Making sure I was well covered, since it had started to snow, I left the castle guided by Tyrion. We crossed the yard towards the entrance and from there we followed the Kingsroad towards a group of tents that stood among the trees of the dead forest.

Inside the largest tent, everyone waited. The Unsullied and the Dothraki had covered their characteristic clothes with a layer of fur. While warm, it was not thick and heavy enough to interfere with their agility in combat. The journey had become more difficult as they had travelled further into the North. None of those men had experienced the intense winter cold and we had lost some soldiers. A pair of Unsullied and five Dothraki had not awakened due to hypothermia. The only detail that disturbed Tyrion, is that in all the way from King's Landing they had not found a single Lannister soldier. Cersei had assured in her last letter that her troops were already heading north. We had no choice but to trust her word and wait.

At the end of the meeting, Tyrion left with Varys, and Ser Jorah approached to ask about my condition.

\- Why did you leave like that, Your Grace? - he asked - If something had happened to you, I… we wouldn’t have known what to do. You are too important.

After assuring him that I was well and that it wouldn’t happen again, he left in direction to the castle. My bear, always so loyal and solicitous How would he react when he knew that I carried the child of another? His affection had always been constant and clear, and yet I could not reciprocate. Although sometimes I had considered it. Yes, at his side I felt safe. But it was not enough.

When I saw Missandei talking to Grey Worm, I told her that I wanted to take a walk by myself. Having convinced her that this time I would not fly away and that I would not go too far, I exited the tent. Ghost lay near the entrance to the castle and as soon as he saw me, he trotted silently in my direction. We walked side by side until, once in the courtyard, he headed towards a narrow passage that ran next to the stables. I had never walked through that part of the castle before, but something in the wolf's expression invited me to follow him.

We reached the end of the path and I found myself in a small forest, still inside the walls. Silence reigned in that secret place, only the soft murmur of the reddish leaves of a large tree with a white, knotted trunk, and a splash somewhere to my left were heard. Ghost had disappeared among the somewhat dry bushes and trees that populated that Godswood. I had read about them in one of the books about stories of Westeros that I kept in my trunk. I knew they were places where the Old Gods were worshiped.

I walked shyly, admiring the pale beauty of the landscape. Behind some mossy rocks, a cloud of steam rose. It was pool of hot water embedded in the rock that served as a wall in that part of the castle. Even in the winter weather, the water gushed so warm that I felt the urge to take off my clothes and plunge myself in it. I continued walking through the wood until I found myself in the furthest corner. A sweet smell had appeared and in my eagerness to find its origin, I followed it until I reached the roots of a sentinel. Several winter roses grew wild at my feet. Their blue petals were sprinkled with fine snowflakes and from them the fragrant scent rose.

Everyone knew the story behind a crown made of these flowers. Years ago, in the great tournament in Harrenhal, Rhaegar had been victorious. As tradition dictated, he was to choose the Queen of Love and Beauty by giving her a crown of roses. The smiles faded as Rhaegar rode past his wife Elia and placed the ornament in Lyanna Stark's lap. The rest was the history written with the blood of the Targaryen dynasty.

I bent down to admire them up close, for their scent awakened a volatile memory that I could not capture. Then the memory sprang up, seeing the contrast of bright blue over the silvery snow: a single flower of blue petals growing from a crack in a wall of ice, the same smell flooding the freezing wind. The vision I had in the House of the Undying in Qarth appeared with unbelievable clarity. Had the warlock Pyat Pree shown me that one day I would be in the North?

Ghost had found me and sniffed the air curiously. Avoiding the thorns, I cut one of the flowers and got up to continue exploring the Godswood. I followed a path that led me to where the weirwood stood. There, a couple of people talked in a low voice. Sam and Bran looked up as they heard my footsteps approaching. Jon’s friend gave me a somber look, while Bran asked him to leave.

\- I see you've found the winter roses – Bran said.

\- I'm sorry if I intruded - I answered - I couldn’t help taking one of them. It has brought me some memories.

\- Visions and prophecies? - he asked - The Undying are famous for them. Some true, some more improbable than others.

I looked at him with surprise. My experience in Qarth was not something that I would tell out loud.

\- How do you know about that?

\- I know some things... Mother of Dragons - he said, looking away towards the pale trunk of the tree.

I imitated him and then I saw the face carved in that old tree. A pair of empty eyes watched us. The sap that had dripped for years lay dry forming thick tears that flowed along the features that outlined the nose and lips. Seeing my interest, Bran continued.

\- It's a heart tree. The Children of the Forest carved it before the arrival of the First Men. Its eyes are also the eyes of the Old Gods and the greenseers. They show us the past, the present and the future that hasn’t yet been written.

A quiver ran down my back. He did not seem like a child every time he spoke. It was as if the body of Bran Stark was the vessel of an archaic and wise spirit.

\- Do you believe in prophecies and curses? - I asked - In the existence of an inevitable force, something one might call destiny?

\- I do think Jon and you were destined to meet, if that's what you want to know - I looked at him stunned - But it was also written that it wouldn’t be easy.

I could not help but keep looking at him and ask "Who or what was this boy with old soul?"

\- As for the prophecies, it seems to me that you already know the answer - he said looking at my belly - "Only death can pay for life". The death of one child in exchange for the life of another. Only a great sacrifice can pay for a greater reward.

I took my hands to where my child grew and spoke:

\- Then it is true. Part of me has refused to believe that I carry Jon Snow’s seed - thinking about the implications of Bran knowing, I asked - Does Jon know?

\- Snow... - he said with a sad smile - No, I'm not the one to tell him. Look for him, it seems to me that the time for confessions has arrived. After all, the song of ice and fire is just beginning.


End file.
